


Artistic Interpretation

by topsnare



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Original Male Character, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Breakfast in Bed, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Domestic Fluff, Domesticity, M/M, Negotiations, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Slow(ish) Burn, Stabbing, Torture, a little bit of torture, bed - sharing, bed sharing, casefic, vague mention of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25084321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topsnare/pseuds/topsnare
Summary: Nathan Webb is the newest edition to the BAU, and becomes an invaluable asset as time goes on.(Disclaimer; I'm bored and have been binging Criminal Minds. Some things may be incorrect/contradictory until approximately chapter 10 asI was on S2 when I started writing this lmao.)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

“Everyone, meet Nathan Webb. He’s being transferred to the BAU. Worked with the Houston PD as a sniper, then internal affairs work, followed by working for the FBI in the counterintelligence unit,” said Aaron Hotchner in a clipped tone, gesturing to the man standing next to him. He was about 5’10, and had strikingly green eyes, a strong smattering of freckles across his face and neck and mid-toned skin. He also wore a silver ring with a spinning mechanism, and he was spinning it with his thumb.

“That’s quite the track record. Work for a shitty precinct?” Asked one of the agents around the table. His smile was cocky, and his body language was the very definition of man-spreading. “My name’s Derek Morgan. Derek or Morgan works.”

“Is it that obvious?” Asked the man, his eyes focusing on him for a moment, before his gaze went back to the rest of the group around the table. “Nathan or Webb works for me. I will not respond to Nate, though. Have a cousin that goes by Nate.”

“Most people who work for internal affairs were police that saw corruption in their precinct, and then the jump to the FBI indicates you lost hope, or that you wanted to be a part of something bigger.” said a young man- much younger than the others in the room. He sat awkwardly, and Webb was able to pick up on his hands fidgeting under the table. “Judging by your reaction to Morgan’s question, you agree that the precinct was corrupt or shitty in another way. It’s not unthinkable either, as most police forces have corruption in some way or another, as seen with 40% of officers being reported for domestic abuse, qualified immunity being abused, brutality and things of that sort are not uncommon.”

“Yeah that’s an understatement. The 40% statistic was closer to 90% at my precinct. Internal affairs honestly wasn’t that much better,” Webb looked the young man over, “I bet with a brain like that, you’re Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Yes, actually,” He looked pleasantly surprised.

“I’ve read some of your papers, though I have some conflicting opinions on a few cases… Larry White and Randall Richardson come to mind. We can talk about it another time, though,” He then glanced over to the next person, a dark haired woman who looked very serious.

“My name is Emily Prentiss.” She said with a bit of a smile, though it felt forced, “What do you specialise in? You seem to know enough to challenge Reid and his papers, so I imagine you’re pretty smart.”

“Well… As… unneeded as this sounds, my specialty is art in relation to crime. Inspiration, symbolism, things like that. It’s a lot more useful and common than you’d think, especially when it comes to serials. That and I’m a pretty good shot, thanks to my sniper training.”

“Art?” Asked Morgan, who sounded skeptical.

“Art is actually a very useful tool if it can be linked to a crime. The symbolism of a piece could affect an unsub or even give them something to identify with. And it’s not uncommon for killers to think of themselves as ‘artists’, and their victim’s body as their ‘work’, especially in organised killers.” Reid said, looking interested and impressed.

“Gold star for Doctor Reid,” Webb said with a chuckle, and crossed his arms, still fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

Next up was an older man, who Webb was pretty sure he’d seen before. “My name’s David Rossi.”

“You’re one of the guys who started the BAU, right? I thought you retired. I seem to recall going to one of your lectures. Did you ever lecture at Florida State?”

“I’m pretty sure I did. I lectured at most big universities. And I did retire. I came back to the BAU because of some unfinished business.”

“Makes sense. The phrasing does make you sound like you’re the edgy protagonist of an action comic, though,” Webb said with a slight shrug, though he couldn’t really hide that he was excited to work with someone so experienced.

Emily and Reid both covered their mouths to try and stifle a chuckle while Morgan flat out laughed. Hotchner sighed, looking slightly amused, and crossed his arms. “JJ will be in with our case shortly, and you’ve already been acquainted with Garcia. Does anyone have any further questions?”

“I’m interested in those cases you mentioned- but if anyone else has other questions...” Reid said, trailing off a little bit.

No one else seemed interested in asking questions, so Webb nodded. “Yeah. Larry White was your classic case of ‘artistically inspired ’ killer. He didn’t quite like it when you guys refused to acknowledge the clear resemblance in the bodily placement with classical art pieces. His first victim was the Birth of Venus, the second was The Naked Maja, Grande Odalisque was the third... The guy seriously had a thing for nude paintings. He wasn’t quite the exhibitionist you expressed him to be, although I won’t argue that it’s part of the appeal it had to him.”

Reid looked very interested, and honestly impressed at his assessment. “An-and what about Randall Richardson? What is your assessment on his case?”

“He was an artist. You may recall that he sketched a lot, but you never connected his desire to create art to his M.O., despite the changes to his pattern. He wasn’t upping the violence as a reaction to police pressure. He was upping it to perfect his artwork. He wanted to make his art more dramatic, perfect the cuts, the placement, everything. It wasn’t perfect to him yet. You guys were counting on him to move faster, or to make a mistake. That wasn’t going to happen because there was no time constraint in his eyes.”

Reid nodded slowly and said, “That in addition to the profile we already had would have likely helped us catch him a lot quicker... We could’ve used his sketches that we found in his apartment to identify how he chose victims and what he was trying to accomplish.”

Webb smiled, seeming a bit smug, “I don’t have all of the details, but I’m sure I could have assisted a little bit during the investigation.”

Reid nodded in agreement and smiled back, looking excited to go over the cases again, “I’d love to go over those cases with you sometime, then. Maybe even some older cold cases, it could help to get a fresh pair of eyes.”

Just at that moment, a woman walked into the room. A blonde, who she looked like she had a lighter personality. “Hey! You must be Nathan Webb. I’m so happy to meet you! I’ve heard good things from the Counterintelligence Division. My name is Jennifer Jareau, but I go by JJ.”

Webb nodded his head at her and smiled, “It’s great to meet you, too. Glad to be of help. What kind of case am I being graced with for my first day?”

JJ’s face fell a little bit and muttered, “A nasty one, unfortunately. Lots of overkill, evidence of sexual assault, and the use of a blade of some kind. I’m going to assume he’s a serial sexual sadist. He went from one victim about every one and a half months to one a week. We’re due for another in three days. He’s in Tulsa, Oklahoma.”

Webb made a face. “Well that’s one hell of a welcome,” he muttered, and sat down at the table with a grunt.

Hotchner sighed and muttered, “It sure is. And don’t get too comfortable. Wheels up in 30.”

Webb groaned and let his head fall back. “Damn. Not even allowed to settle into my cubicle for an hour.”

“As is life around here,” said Rossi with a tone of amusement, “I hope you packed your go bag.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly not super happy with how this bit was written but oh well. I mean, it's a fanfiction and I'm not trying to write the next 50 shades here, so I don't really care but still, don't be harsh on this one.

“Alright, so... Gay male is what we’re going for, right? Or at least, a male looking for male victims in gay bars?” Asked Morgan, looking over the files. “I mean, the sexual assault indicates either interest or a need for power...”

Webb scanned over the victim’s pictures and hummed, “I’d say he’s gay. Or at least bisexual. He’s looking for guys who fit the ‘twink’ type. No preference for hair color, eye color or race. In my opinion, straight guys are more likely to go for a specific hair color or eye color. Gay men are a lot less... picky, at least with specifics like that.”

“Twink?” Asked Emily, looking confused.

Reid looked over the photos and said, “A twink is a type of gay ‘tribe’ of men based off of their body type and a few other characteristics. Twink’s are usually smaller in frame, young, and have little to no body hair. They’re usually somewhat feminine in appearance, too. These victims all seem to fit that profile.”

Morgan smirked, “You just described yourself and Webb.”

“Reid’s technically part of the ‘geek’ tribe. The name is fairly self-explanatory. Twinks or otters with a penchant for being a huge nerd,” Webb corrected, smirking a bit at the doctor.

Rossi furrowed his brows, “Otter?”

“Twink but with body hair, usually a lot of it.” Reid explained.

Morgan chuckled as he looked between Reid and Webb, and said, “Well it’s clear who we’re sending in for canvassing the bars.”

“Just because I know the terminology?” Asked Reid, looking a little insulted.

“Mmm, I think the long hair would get you pretty far. You’re tall too. That’s a plus,” Webb said with a smirk, looking Reid over, “I mean, you don’t exactly look the gay bar type, but if I came with you, we’d be alright.”

Reid made a face at Webb, resulting in Emily letting out a laugh and covered her mouth to stifle it. JJ, Morgan and Rossi all seemed to laugh a little bit, and even Hotchner was able to crack a smile. Reid crossed his arms, practically pouting, and Webb gently nudged his leg with his foot. Hotchner then added, “We haven’t seen your interview and canvassing style yet, Webb, so I want you two to be careful. Reid, you’re going to be in charge, but let Webb lead as far as small talk goes. Morgan, I want you to go to the dumpsites with Prentiss. JJ and I will be working with the sheriff. Garcia?”

The woman perked up on the other end of the video call. “Yeah?”

“Look into everything about these guys. See if they’re connected in any way other than the types of bars they frequent,” Hotchner ordered.

“I’d recommend dating sites. A lot of gay and bi men like to sign up to sites online so they can find people without having to really leave the house. I’d also check any crossover with fetish sites, since there’s some ligature marks on the bodies of victims.”

Hotchner nodded, and Morgan was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “Are you...? Bi? Or gay?”

“I mean I figured that was obvious. I don’t exactly hide it.” Webb said, rolling his eyes a bit and raising a brow at the man. “I’m bi.”

Morgan seemed satisfied and glanced at Hotchner. “Then he’s a good choice for canvassing the bars. Anyone who doesn’t like being open about their sexuality will be more likely to open up to someone else who is bi or gay.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………...

As they got off the plane and climbed into the car, with Reid in the driver’s seat, Webb looked over at him and asked, “So are you just a super smart guy who happens to know the tribes or are you also gay or bi?”

Reid frowned a little bit and shrugged as he started the car. “I don’t know. I'm pretty sure that I like men as well as women, but I don’t have a lot of experience with either.”

Webb nodded and looked at his phone, humming softly to himself. “Fair enough. You were too young to really… engage in anything like that in high school and early college, right?”

Reid nodded a bit and mumbled, “I’ve heard it’s not too late, but there aren’t exactly a lot of opportunities to have relationships with this job.”

“It does have great opportunities for one night stands though,” Webb said with a chuckle, and then added, “But you don’t strike me as the one-night stand type.”

Reid seemed to agree, and they drove in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before they pulled into the parking lot of the bar. It was around 9, so the bar was starting to gain a few patrons. Reid climbed out of the car, and Webb followed, deciding to let Reid lead. They got to the door, and Reid held up his badge at the bouncer. “Hi, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and this is Agent Nathan Webb. We’re with the FBI. Is there any chance we could speak with the employees who were here last Friday night?”

The bouncer furrowed his brows and nodded, “Yeah, of course. I wasn’t working then but I’ll get the manager. He should have the schedule.”

The bouncer roped off the small line that was forming at the entrance, and opened the door, leading them inside. The bar itself was fairly dark, with LED lights flashing. The music was loud, bass-filled dance music, but it was still quiet enough that you could hear people talking. It wasn’t crowded yet either, so the voices weren’t quite overwhelming. The bouncer led them to the counter and called over the bartender, a woman who appeared to be in about her late twenties. She had hair cropped short on the sides, but long and tied back in the middle. “Julie. These guys are from the FBI.”

She wiped down the glass she was currently holding and glanced over, “Thanks, Wesley. I got this. Go handle the door.”

Reid held up his badge, and Webb followed his lead. She squinted at the badges before saying, “The police already asked us some questions about Cole. I’m assuming this is also about him.”

Webb perked up a little bit, “You knew him?”

“Yeah. He was a regular,” She said, and pointed to some pictures up on the wall behind the bar.

Webb squinted at the photos, verifying that he was in the photos, mostly with others and said, “So it’s safe to say he was out, right? Like publicly? Did he have any issues with family or friends?”

Julie nodded, “He was out, and no issues with family. At least, no close family. He had a dickhead for a cousin, but I don’t think they kept in touch at all. They weren’t close even before he came out, from what I know.”

Reid asked, “Could I see all of the photos with him in it? And could I get a list of everyone in those photos?”

Julie turned around, looking at some of the photos before grabbing a few off of the wall and handing them over to Reid. “I was the only bartender working on Friday, but Carlos - Carlos Mendez - he was working as a server, and so was Bella - Isabella Steele. They aren’t in today. They only work on Fridays and weekends.”

Webb seemed satisfied, taking a moment to write down their names. Reid looked over the photos and took down the names of people in the photos. “Okay. Now I know you’ve probably been asked these questions by the police, but can you think of anyone that he may have left with that night? Do you know if he has a boyfriend, maybe an ex? Or someone he was seeing casually?”

“Also- did he see anyone or date anyone who was maybe not out? On the down-low? I’m sure you have guys like that here, but I doubt they’d make it to the pictures, or want to be put up on the wall,” added Webb.

The three of them went through some names, and eventually, they had a list of about 15 people that may have some involvement, but they didn’t have any ideas as for who may have left with him, and there wasn’t anyone that Julie knew of that had an issue with the victim. There were a few guys that were on the down-low that Cole had been seen with, so they were the most likely of the unlikely suspects. But it was good they had a list. Something to go off of in case any of these leads actually worked out.

By the time they had gotten their list finished, the bar had filled up a little more, and the music had gotten louder. Reid leaned over to Webb and said, “I think we’re done here- we should head outside and call and check in with JJ and Hotch.”

Webb nodded and leaned over the counter, calling the bartender back over, “Thank you so much for your help. Please call us if you notice anything, think of or see anyone suspicious, anything like that,” he handed his card over to her, and Reid did the same.

They then made their way outside, and Reid dialed Hotch’s number, putting it on speaker. “Reid, Webb, how’d it go?”

“We’ve got a list of about 15 people who knew the victim who frequented the club or were previously involved with him. We’ve also got the names of everyone who worked there that night. What’s the next best course of action, do you think?” Reid said, looking at Webb.

“Well, there are two more bars. I want you both to stay together but go to them both. I then want you to stake out the only other gay bar in the town proper. Be quick with your interviews at the first two. I don’t want the unsub to snag another victim while you’re gathering names,” said Hotch.

“Stake them out? Like undercover or..?” Asked Webb.

“Not necessarily undercover, but do not identify yourself unless necessary. And try not to look suspicious. Relax. You’re allowed two beers or one shot, but stay on task. I want you to report back every hour. Stay together.”

Webb sighed and nodded, “Understood, sir.”

“I’ll text you both the addresses.”

Hotch hung up, and Reid and Webb both climbed into the car, with Reid driving again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a random name generator open for all of the suspects and people mentioned and it shows 👁 👄 👁

After they finished up at the two bars where victims had been taken from, Reid and Webb sat in the car and compared notes. They looked through all of the names they had and started circling. “Hey, we’ve got four names that show up on all three lists,” Reid said, looking at the pieces of paper.

Webb leaned over, looking over every and nodded, “Let’s call Garcia, see if we can get a picture of any of these guys so we can keep our eyes out. But I’m honestly surprised we don’t have more crossover… The gay community is pretty tight. Especially in the south. Everyone knows everyone.”

He then opened up his phone and dialed Garcia’s number, spinning his fidget-ring as he waited for her to answer. Eventually, Penelope answered, “How’s the newest, prettiest boy in the BAU?”

Webb laughed softly at the teasing, and said, “I’m alright, how’s my favourite hacker? See anything interesting in your background check on me?”

“Oh I’ve got all sorts of blackmail material now.”

“You better watch it, Garcia. I’m sure I could find something to get back at you with,” Webb laughed, before he glanced at Reid, “Now I’d love to just chat, but I need to see if I can get some faces for some names. You can run a background on these guys too, but we really just need what these guys look like. I need faces for Lee Finley, Isaiah Orozco, Victor Mccann and Tony Shannon.”

“Ooh will do, hot stuff. Give me a few minutes and I’ll text you the pictures. Ciao-”

Once Garcia hung up, Webb and Reid looked at each other before Webb said, “We should let Hotch know we’re about to go in.”

“I’ll send him a text.”

Reid looked down at his phone and sent Hotch a text, and included a picture of the suspect pool, including all of the names, not just the four that they had picked out. He then looked over at Webb and asked, “Are you ready?”

Webb sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I’m gonna lose the jacket though. You may want to lose the sweater. It’s going to be hot in there. What’s our story, though?” 

He slipped out of his suit jacket, and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt until they were past his elbows. He then unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and glanced over at Reid. “I don’t really know… I know I look out of place, and I’ve never been one to go to bars, much less gay bars.”

Webb thought for a moment before suggesting, “Well… Maybe I’m your friend who’s been out for a while, and you’re recently out? New to the scene, new to everything? Or maybe you’re just a straight friend I brought with me? Either would work. I would suggest maybe we pretend we’re dating, but it might be better if we act like we’re both single.”

Reid looked Webb over, an expression that Webb couldn’t really place washing over his face. “I-Um, just recently out makes more sense.”

They both climbed out of the car, and they started towards the bar. There wasn’t really a line, but there was one person in front of them showing the bouncer their ID. They stood behind them for a few moments, and Webb felt his phone buzz. He pulled out his phone and checked it. Garcia had sent them photos of the guys on the list. He held his phone up and showed it to Reid. “Here’s the photos of the guys on our list.”

Reid looked over and scanned the photos, before nodding. Then, the person ahead of them went into the bar, and it was their turn to show their IDs. Reid went first, rummaging in his wallet for a moment before showing it to the bouncer. The bouncer looked at the ID, scanned it and then handed it back, and started to put a brightly colored wristband on his wrist. Once it was on, Reid stood to the side and waited for Webb as he handed over his own ID. After Webb got his wristband and his ID back, they both started into the bar. The bar was fairly crowded, and the music seemed to be louder than at the first bar they went to. It was going to be hard to talk privately in the club. Webb leaned over and grabbed Reid’s arm, linking them together. “What’s the plan?”

Reid glanced down at where their arms touched and shrugged, “I don’t know how gay bars work… Do we just do normal bar things?”

“Yeah. Do you want to get a drink? Hotch said we could each get two beers, right? We could sit at the table over there-” he pointed to one in the corner, “We could sit with our backs to the wall and watch the crowd.”

Reid seemed to be in agreement, and asked, “Want me to grab the table while you get some drinks?”

“Sure thing, Spencer,” Webb smirked at him as he let go of his arm, and then stepped off, walking towards the bar. He walked over to the bartender and held up two fingers, “Two beers, please?”

The bartender, an older guy with greying hair and a beard, nodded and started to pour two glasses. Webb looked around the bar, watching the patrons mingle, dance and chat, and by the time both glasses were poured, he had spotted two of the four on the crossover list. He took the glasses and made his way over to Reid, who was currently being chatted up by a bigger guy. Reid looked fairly uncomfortable, so Webb set the drinks down, a little louder than he typically would, and hopped onto the chair next to Reid, “Heya Spence, who’s your friend?”

“Nathan- ah, this is Keaton,” Reid said, looking a little panicked. “He was just asking me about you.”

“Ah, what’d you say? All good things I hope,” Webb put a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing in an attempt to soothe him.

“Spencer was telling me how you two have been friends since college. Psychology majors, right?” replied Keaton, not seeming to pick up on why Spencer was uncomfortable, despite the obvious body language.

“Yeah. I feel like everyone should have to take some psych classes,” Webb said, his tone slightly sharp, and he made eye contact with the guy.

He seemed to sort of get the hint, shifting back a bit and shrugging, “I didn’t quite make it through college,” he offered, shifting back a bit as if to show that he was nonthreatening while still keeping conversation.

Reid looked back between the two, and leaned into Webb’s hand, away from the guy. After a few moments of silence, with Webb maintaining eye contact with a raised brow, Keaton backed up and slunk away from the table, looking a bit embarrassed. Reid looked sheepish as he glanced back to Webb, and mumbled, “Sorry. I’m not great with small talk.”

Webb shrugged and removed his hand, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll stick with you as best I can. But what did you think about Mr. Keaton, beyond an inability to read body language and tone?”

Reid seemed to settle down a bit as they got back on the topic of the case, and shook his head. “He seemed a bit pushy, but l think he’s just lonely. Not really the sexually sadistic serial killer type.”

Webb nodded in agreement, “Yeah. That's what I thought, too. Anyway, there are two of the guys on the list here that I’ve seen so far,” He leaned over and pointed in their direction.

Reid squinted in their direction before nodding, “Got it. I don’t think we should engage with them… I don’t want to tip them off to the fact they might be suspects without enough evidence. If they talk to either of us, we shouldn’t bring up any of the victims either… Just don’t bring up anything related to the case.”

Webb nodded and leaned back in the chair, sipping his drink and eyeing the crowd. He’d worked undercover before, but he never had to work a bar-club scene quite like this. So far, no one really stood out, so he kept his eyes on the two he’d already IDed as frequent customers. Mostly they were dancing, not really talking with anyone in particular. Reid sipped his drink as he watched as well. They ended up watching for a few hours, checking in with Hotch every hour via text, but by the time they had finished their second beers, nothing had happened, and one of the guys had left alone. That left one guy that was on their list, but he honestly seemed too drunk to be much of a threat to anyone. He was stumbling and slurring pretty bad, and the bartender looked just about ready to cut him off. Webb was considering asking Reid if they should call it when Reid’s phone rang. It was Hotch. “Hotch- we’re still at the bar-... Yes. I understand… We’ll head there.”

Webb perked up slightly and raised his eyebrows, “Where are we headed, Doctor?”

“We’re headed to the hotel. Hotch says we need to get some rest… It is midnight, after all,” Reid said with a sigh.

Webb nodded, “Sounds good. I could sure use the rest.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Once morning rolled around, everyone met at the station, going over what they had found. They had deduced that the killer was definitely a gay or bisexual man, and that he didn’t have any remorse for his actions, as seen by the way the bodies were dumped. They didn’t believe that The sheriff had a few suspects, and combined with the list that Reid and Webb had, they had a pretty sizable list. They hadn’t gotten to truly rule anyone out yet, but Garcia had been running the names for most of the night.

“Okay, so I’ve narrowed the names down to about Thirty-eight people. Four of which are those guys that overlapped at the bars that Webb and Reid found,” Garcia said, sounding excited.

“We saw two of them last night at the bar. One left by himself, and the other was way too intoxicated to murder or abduct someone as efficiently as the unsub has done in the past. That’s not saying they can’t be our unsub, but they didn’t seem to be actively hunting last night,” Said Reid confidently.

“True, but we have one more day. He normally abducts his prey on Fridays and the bodies show up on Saturdays,” Webb reminded, spinning his ring, “But that means he probably doesn’t stalk his victims. And I didn’t see anyone just sitting and watching at the club besides Reid and myself.” 

Morgan sighed a bit, “Well the dumpsite is about eight miles from the first bar, twelve from the second, six from the third and if the trend continues, nine from the bar you guys staked out last night. The bars seem to be fairly central to the city, and the bodies were all found on the outskirts of town. That tells us that he’s mobile. He probably lures his victims into a car after watching them or talking to them at the bar.”

Prentiss seemed to agree, “Yeah. All the spots where he dumped the bodies weren’t very well traveled, so he must have known the roads were pretty secluded. That means he’s probably a local, or at least grew up here.”

Garcia spoke up on the other end of the video call, “So should I narrow those names down to people who have lived here for five-plus years or grew up here and recently moved back?”

“Within a month of the first body showing up, I’d say,” Rossi said, “That should narrow the list down by at least a few names, right?”

“Got it! I’ll hit you back in a few, kiddos. Stay on the line!”

Everyone looked around at each other for a moment, before Morgan asked, “How’d everything go with the sheriff?”

“It went alright. The sheriff gave a lot of names to work with. Coupled with the list Reid and Webb got, we had those four that were at or frequented the bars on the days the victims went missing, and three other people who overlapped from the police suspect pool and from the one Reid and Webb have.”

They talked to each other for a few minutes, discussing details of the case and making a few more deductions before Garcia got back on the call, and spoke up, “Good news my sweets! Thirty-eight is now down to four! Two of those were on the crossover between the bar patrons.”

Webb furrowed his brows and then glanced at Reid. “Which two were those? We only saw two of the four at the bar we went to last night.”

“Lee Finley and Victor Mccann.”

“We saw Mccann last night, and he didn’t seem like a threat at all,” Reid said.

“Alright, Garcia. Get us an address for Finley,” said Hotch.

“Sent.”


	4. Chapter 4

They had split up, with Morgan, Hotch and Prentiss taking the man's house, and Webb, Reid, JJ and Rossi taking the bar. Webb was driving this time, and they had just pulled into the parking lot of the bar. “What’s the plan here? Do we wait outside or do we go in?” Webb asked, turning off the car.

“You and Reid should go back in since you’re already familiar. We’ll keep an eye out here. We don’t know if he’s already gone in or not. You two go in, look around quickly and then come back out,” Rossi said, “If he’s in there, call us over the comms and we’ll call the rest of the team and backup.”

Webb nodded and started to get out of the car, with Reid following suit. They made it into the club, this time flashing their badges instead of waiting in line and getting their IDs scanned. Reid was the first to enter the bar. Unfortunately for all of them, the bar was extremely crowded at this time. “Shit,” muttered Webb, scanning the crowd as best he could, although the darkness and flashing lights were making it increasingly difficult.

Reid looked worried as well, and scowled as he scanned as well. “We’re going to have to split up. You take the right, I’ll take the left.”

Webb nodded and moved to the right side of the bar, walking through the crowd and shoving past people to try and scan the entire crowd. It took a while, but he managed to scan the entire right side, and when he made it to the back of the club, he made eye contact with Reid. Reid shook his head, and Webb did as well. He wasn’t in the club. They both made their way back to the front, still scanning the crowd as they moved. By the time they made it outside, they hadn’t seen him. They both walked out of the door, and looked at JJ and Rossi. They shook their heads, and Reid and Webb both moved to climb into the car. Webb sighed as he sat down, “Do we just wait here then? I mean, there’s got to be something we can do to both keep an eye on the bar and help the others, right?”

Rossi shook his head and muttered, “Not really. If they call us and say he’s at home, we’ll be sent in as backup, but if he comes here, we’re going to call them in.”

“And if he never shows at either?”

“Well we’ve got a statewide APB out for his car and for his description, so we should be able to find him regardless,” JJ said with confidence.

Webb sighed, clearly annoyed with the prospect of waiting, and settled into the seat. Reid looked over at him, frowning a bit, “Impatient?”

“Definitely,” Webb muttered, scowling as he glared at the door. “My least favorite part of any case is the part where we wait until they show up. I prefer to actually be… doing something. Running through details, analyzing crime scenes, chasing unsubs, interviewing them, shit like that.”

Reid seemed sympathetic, nodding, and then looked back to the door. They ended up sitting there for probably ten, fifteen more minutes before finally they got a call from Hotch. “He’s not at the house. He’s probably on the way to the club or he’s making a run for it. We’re setting up roadblocks for all of the roads leading out of town.”

Webb sighed and rubbed his temple with one hand, fidgeting with his spinner ring with the other. Rossi spoke up, “Does Garcia have any other information on him? Any other places he may be or may have gone?”

“Garcia is still on the line, my sweets! And I do have a bit more information on him. He has no other property in his name, but he used to work at a factory that recently shut down. I’ve sent you all the addresses. Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss should head that way and the rest of you should stay on standby in case they need backup or if the guy shows up at the bar.”

Webb sighed and rummaged in his pockets, finding a coin and starting to flick it through his fingers, his spinner ring clearly no longer enough to satiate his boredom at having to sit still. His eyes remained fixed on the entrance to the bar, though his hands expertly flicked the coin through his fingers and up into the air, before it landed in his hand again. As Webb watched and stared, Reid became interested in the coin, and watched him flip it through his fingers. They ended up waiting for a few more minutes before another call came in over the radio from Morgan. “He’s making a run for it. Heading east on Maple Ave. Dark green sedan.”

“We’re on our way,” JJ said, and nudged Webb from the backseat. “Let’s go.”

Webb pocketed the coin and popped the car into reverse, backing out of the parking spot and heading off towards where the unsub was last seen, flipping on the sirens as well. They drove around for a while, in the rough area of where he was last seen, following the road for a distance before Webb saw a dark green sedan in the distance. “I think we’ve got him, now heading north on Sherwood Rd,” Webb said into the comm, speeding up and starting to chase after the car.

JJ, Reid and Rossi all clung to the ‘oh shit’ handles as Webb hit a turn fairly hard, and Reid grumbled, “I understand the purpose of large SUVs like this for firefights or for carrying suspects but they really are a pain when it comes to chases.”

Reid whimpered out, “You really don’t have to take the turns that hard-” before yelping a bit as Webb took another hard turn.

Just as they made the turn, they caught sight of the unsub’s car crashing right into the back of a van that was backing up. Webb hit the brakes before shifting the car into park and hopping out, drawing his gun. “We’ve got him going east on Chapel Rd. He just wrecked his car,” Rossi said into the comms.

Everyone climbed out of the car with their guns drawn, and JJ called out, “Lee Finley! Get out of the vehicle now!”

The guy was already out of his car, but he peeked up over the back of the car, and fired off a few shots. Everyone ducked down and Rossi inched forward, grabbing Webb’s shoulder, and guiding him down and forward. “Lee we need you to drop the gun!” Rossi shouted out, to which the man responded with more gunfire.

Everyone inched forward towards the unsub, but there was a good distance between their SUV and the unsub’s sedan. They were about as close as they could get without being exposed. Webb narrowed his eyes, removed his glasses and levelled his gun at the unsub, aiming for where his hand last was. “Lee Finley, we’re with the FBI. Drop the gun!” He shouted, keeping his arm steady.

Webb watched as Lee started to peek over the car, and once he raised his hand to try and fire off a shot, Webb shot at him. The bullet grazed Lee’s hand, and he let out a cry of pain, dropping the gun. Webb rushed forward and ducked behind the unsub’s car, before inching around. The guy had dropped his gun, and was holding his injured hand in his non-injured hand. Rossi, Reid and JJ all moved forward as well, closing in on him. Rossi stood up first, circling around the car and kicking the gun out of the way. Webb stood up next, and JJ followed, with Reid being the last to encircle him. “Stand up slowly, Lee. You’re under arrest for the murder of Aiden Ross, Adam Burns, Alexander West, Oliver Summers and Cole Ray.”

Rossi ended up grabbing him, and cuffed him roughly. Lee glared at them all, and growled, “Fuck you.”

Reid looked over at Webb and remarked in awe, “That was an amazing shot.”

“Yeah. I believe I mentioned I was a pretty good shot, right?”

“Pretty good? Were you aiming for his head or something?” JJ said, looking at the man’s injury as Rossi walked Lee towards one of the patrol cars that had caught up to the chase.

“No. I was aiming for his hand. I was lucky I only grazed it, though.”

“Then you’re much better than just a ‘pretty good’ shot, Nathan.” Reid said, looking very impressed.

Webb smiled a bit and shrugged, holstering his gun. “Thanks. I try my best.”


	5. Chapter 5

As they all arrived back at the station, Hotch walked over and patted Webb on the back, “I heard about your shot. I’d heard that you were good from the counterintelligence unit, but shooting a guy’s gun hand as he hides behind a car? That’s very impressive.”

Webb smiled a bit at that and shrugged, “It’s nothing, really. I mean, I did work as a sniper before I worked in counterintelligence. I’m a good shot.”

Hotch nodded at that and hummed, “That’s true. I’m glad you were here today, then. Judging by JJ’s description of what happened, it looked like things were going to end up in a firefight and with him committing suicide by cop.”

Webb seemed pretty proud, and Morgan also came over to congratulate him on his shot. “Dude I hope the dashcam on the car was working, I want to see that shot so fucking bad. The way Reid was talking about it, damn, it sounded like it was badass.”

He looked over at Reid with a raised eyebrow, and he watched the Doctor ramble on to Prentiss about something, and he clearly looked excited. “Well, I had heard that the Doctor isn’t the best shot. I’m sure he’s giving me a lot more credit than I need.”

Morgan laughed a bit and shook his head, “No way, man. If Hotch and Rossi are both giving you kudos for your shot, and Reid has gotten a lot better, even though we still give him shit.”

Webb shrugged and winked, “Well if you want to witness my shooting abilities in real-time, you’re always welcome to come with me to the shooting range.”

Morgan patted his back with a grin and said, “I’d be happy to join you sometime. You’re gonna have to invite the whole team with you. Maybe you could teach Reid to shoot like you.”

Webb seemed thoughtful for a moment, and his eyes rested back on Reid, and he subconsciously licked his lips as he replied, “Yeah that sounds fun. I bet Reid would be hell on wheels if he had good aim.”

Morgan’s brows raised into a knowing look and he looked Webb up and down, chuckling softly. “He sure would be.”

Webb seemed unaware of Morgan’s gaze, as he was still watching Reid, “So with him arrested, do we head to the hotel or do we hop on the jet to head back? I’m assuming we have to wait a bit just to make sure he’s the right guy and not just a guy who fits the profile and is happy to shoot at the feds.”

Morgan shrugged, “I think JJ and Hotch will probably stay here and keep an eye on the investigation while we get to do whatever. I was probably going to head back to the hotel and get a couple of drinks at the bar in the lobby, what do you think you’ll be doing?”

Webb finally looked back to Morgan and smiled, “I think I’ll see what the others are doing before I decide, but I think drinks sound like a good idea. I haven’t had a good glass of whiskey in a long while.”

Webb patted Morgan’s back and gave him a little thumbs up before walking over to Reid, Prentiss and now Rossi, and asked, “What’s everyone’s plans for the night?”

“I’m going to go see if I can get any quality cigars from a shop downtown,” Rossi said, looking pleased at the thought.

Prentiss rolled her eyes slightly and said, “I think I’m just going to head to my room for the night. I’m honestly exhausted since I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Reid shrugged a bit and said, “I don’t know really. I figured I would probably just read a few books or something.”

“Ah, well. If anyone wants to come with, I think I’m gonna go have a few drinks with Morgan,” Webb said, “He said we were gonna drink at the bar in the hotel lobby, so if any of you want to join, you can.”  
They ended up all taking one car back and stopped downtown for Rossi to get some cigars before they headed back to the hotel. Prentiss headed up to her room while the boys all made their way to the bar. Morgan ended up getting a beer for himself, and Reid got himself a cocktail. That left Rossi and Webb to stare at the top shelf, scanning the bottles. “I think I’ll get a glass of the Chivas Regal, on the rocks,” Webb said to the bartender, glancing at Rossi. “You?”

Rossi looked a little impressed and nodded in agreement, “Looks like a good choice. I’ll have a glass as well.”

The bartender poured them both a glass before they made their way over to the table that Morgan and Reid had picked out. Webb sat down next to Reid and across from Morgan, and took a sip of his drink. “You surprise me, Nathan. You don’t look like the kind of guy to drink a whiskey like this,” Rossi said, holding 

“Yeah? What did I strike you as?” Webb said with a chuckle.

“Honestly, you look like you’d be into shots,” Morgan said with a laugh, and took a drink of his beer. 

“Oh well you’re not wrong there,” Webb replied, smiling a little bit into his glass, “I try not to, though. I tend to go too hard too fast if I do shots. If I have whiskey-” he picked up the glass for effect, “I take my time.”

Reid looked at the glass, “But- if Rossi’s drinking that as well, it’s got to be expensive. If you regularly drink that, surely it takes a toll financially, right?”

“I like to splurge on drinks. I mean, I’m happy to live in a studio apartment, so it’s not a big deal.”

They all sat around, chatting and drinking for a while, with everyone getting a few refills - and Webb getting several. It didn’t seem to have much more of an effect on him, though. Eventually, Rossi called it a night, Leaving Reid, Morgan and Webb at the table. Reid was mostly quiet, while Morgan was practically interrogating him on his past work. “So you’re telling me you just happened to have amazing accuracy and then got a job as a sniper?”

“Yeah. I mean, I used to do laser tag and paintball as a kid and I was always great at that, so I guess it translated pretty well once I got on the force. When we were doing assessments, I had good accuracy. Got some more training in handguns and then onto automatic weapons and then sniper rifle training,” Webb explained, taking another sip of his drink.

“Dude that’s seriously impressive,” Morgan said, grinning, “I should’ve played more paintball as a kid, I guess.”

“It’s not all practice, though I’m sure that plays a part in it,” Reid said, speaking up, “Your hand-eye coordination, eyesight and far-sighted vision are all very important. You look like you’ve got great eyesight and that that’s helping with your amazing aim.”

Webb raised an eyebrow at him and chuckled, “Oh I know. Practice is important, but so is talent. I’ve heard about your aim, or rather, your lack thereof. You seem to be fully aware of all of the mechanics of firing a weapon, but you’re not quite there on the execution.”

“Well that’s not- I mean-”

“Doctor Reid, it's nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. Some people are naturally good shots, some people aren’t. Anyway, you definitely beat me with your brains, not to mention your looks,” Webb said with a slight smirk and nudged him under the table with his foot.

Reid quieted a bit, his cheeks turning a light pink before he smiled and said in an almost-giggle that was likely fueled by the cocktails, “No way… I think you’re gonna take the ‘pretty boy’ title from me.”

Morgan smirked a bit and laughed, “No way, Reid. No way. That’s your nickname and always will be your nickname. Now Webb is pretty, no doubt about that, but I think a better fitting name would be Cassanova.”

Webb rolled his eyes and snorted a bit, “No way, Morgan. I’m no Cassanova. Definitely not.”

“No?” Reid said with a raised eyebrow. “I can guarantee you are. Pick anyone at this bar and I guarantee that if they aren’t married or in a relationship, you could get their number or more. Hell, someone in a relationship might still go for it.”

Reid let out a little chuckle, nodding and looking like he was going to say something before he decided to drink some of his cocktail instead. Webb raised his brows at him, “What do you have to say, Reid? You can’t just laugh and drink instead.”

“Nothin’,” He said, still smiling and clearly hiding something as he took another sip.

Morgan laughed a bit and nudged Reid’s shoulder. “I’m sure pretty boy here is just agreeing with Cassanova is a good nickname for you.”

Webb rolled his eyes and gently kicked them both under the table. “C’mon Reid. I can’t read your mind, kiddo.”

“I was just thinking that if you came up to me at a bar, I’d probably give you my number if you asked,” Reid said, grinning.

Webb stared at Reid with a disbelieving gaze, and Morgan laughed at Reid and Webb’s reaction, before saying, “I mean, I probably would have given you my number too, at some point in time.”

Webb laughed at that and said, “Yeah right. Don’t play with my feelings like that, guys,” before finishing his drink and standing, “I’m gonna head to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning. Call my room if something comes up.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of domesticity, a little bit of interrogation :)

The next morning, Webb ended up waking up to his phone ringing at about nine am. He groaned and rubbed his temples for a few moments before leaning over and grabbing his phone and putting it to his ear without checking the caller ID. “Yeah?” he said, voice gravelly and sleep-filled.

“Nathan?” said the voice on the other end of the call. It sounded like Reid.

“Spencer?” Webb asked, starting to sit up a little bit, still a little groggy, “What’s up? Do y’all need me for something or-”

Reid interjected, “No! No- I just wanted to see if you were awake yet. Hotch hasn’t called any of in yet, but I was going to see if you get some breakfast with me before heading into the station, but you sound like you’re still half-asleep. I’ll just let you go back to sleep.”

“No need, Spence. I’ll be right down. I may be sleepy still, but I’m not gonna be able to back to sleep. I just need to get dressed so give me a minute,” Webb said, starting to climb out of the bed, “What are you thinking for breakfast, doc?”

As Webb started to get dressed, he threw his phone on speaker. “Well, I was thinking we could get something at a diner or maybe at the cafe in the lobby.”

“Yeah? I could really go for a pastry of some kind and some coffee,” Webb finished buttoning up his shirt and picked his phone back up, taking it off of speaker and putting his phone by his ear. “I’ll be right down, Reid. Meet me in the lobby?”

“Sounds good! I’ll drive.”

Webb put his phone in his back pocket and holstered his gun on his hip before grabbing his suit jacket and heading out of the door. He took the stairs down, using it as a way to wake his body up and drive the remaining fogginess from his mind. He finally made it down to the lobby and spotted the doctor standing by the door, looking at a file. Webb walked over and gently patted his arm. “Hey, Spence. You ready to go?”

He jumped a bit, and then looked over at him and nodded, “Yeah, I’m ready. Have you decided on where we’re getting food?”

“I think the cafe is a good choice. I don’t think I’m really up for a big breakfast. Just a coffee and maybe a croissant or a sandwich or something,” Webb said, smiling a bit. “Do you normally get coffee with a coworker in the morning?”

Reid shrugged and started towards the cafe in the lobby. “Not usually, but I don’t really live next to anyone else on the team. And I usually just bring coffees for everyone on the mornings we’re working cases.”

Webb smiled and laughed a little bit as they stepped into the short line for the cafe, “So I’m special, is what you’re saying? Where’s your apartment? Maybe we could get coffee in the mornings a couple of times a week if we live near each other?”

Reid looked a little embarrassed, and shrugged, “No- it’s just that you’re new and I usually like to get to know the new members and we didn’t really have that time when you got here since we had to go on the case almost immediately. And I live in the apartment complex on Myrtle Avenue.”

Webb smiled a bit and nodded, “Well I don’t live far at all, then. I live on Monroe. We should definitely get coffee together in the mornings.”

They were next up to talk to the cashier, and Reid ordered coffee for himself and the rest of the team (except for Webb), as well as a breakfast sandwich. He then looked to Webb and said with a smile, “And whatever you want.”

Webb nudged Reid gently and ordered his own coffee and breakfast sandwich. “Thanks, Spence.”

Reid paid, and they moved off to the side as they waited for their drinks and food to be made. Webb raised his brows at Reid and chuckled, “You didn’t have to pay for me, you know? I’m not going to pass up an offer to have my meals paid, though”

He smiled and shook his head a bit, “No, no it’s fine. I’ll get Hotch to reimburse me for the coffee, since I’m getting some for the whole team, and I don’t exactly mind paying four dollars for a sandwich.”

Webb chuckled softly and said, “I mean, I guess that’s fair,” before grabbing his coffee and sandwich, and then the drink carrier of coffee for the team.

Reid grabbed his own coffee and sandwich off of the counter and smiled at him as they made their way out of the cafe and out of the hotel entirely. Webb had to juggle the coffee to open the passenger door of the car, but managed to get inside without spilling any coffee. Reid got into the driver’s side and they headed off in the direction of the station. The drive was short and fairly peaceful, with both of them occasionally sipping their coffee. When they got to the station, they both climbed out of the car and walked into the station, towards the conference room where they were set up. Webb set the drink carrier down on the table once they reached the conference room. “Hey JJ. Did you get some sleep last night or were you up here the whole time?”

The blonde looked up a little bit and glanced over with a smile as she reached for one of the coffees. She looked tired, but not overly so, “I got some sleep. Not a lot of it, but enough. Thank you for the coffee!”

“Thank Spencer, not me! He paid for everything.”

JJ looked over at Reid and smiled, “Thanks, Spence. I appreciate it.”

Reid smiled a little bit and sat down at the table. “No worries. How’s it going here?”

Webb sat down as well, and JJ sighed, “I mean, things are going slowly. He’s not talking, but he hasn’t called for a lawyer. But we can’t exactly confirm nor deny if he has an alibi or not. The fact that he isn’t talking makes me think he’s the right guy, though.”

Webb raised a brow and asked, “Do you want me to give him a go? I mean… I’m technically his type, right? Reid might work too.”

JJ looked them both over before saying, “Go for it, Nathan. He might hold a grudge since you’re the one who shot him, but that might work against him too. I think Hotch is with him right now.”

Webb nodded a bit and hummed, “I’ll go when I’m done with my breakfast,” before starting to eat his sandwich with a happy groan.

JJ rolled her eyes a little bit and Reid chuckled for a moment before he started to eat his own sandwich. Reid finished his first, and Webb followed soon after. Webb sat for a moment, letting his stomach settle before he sighed and said, “Well, guess I’m up on interviewing him. Wish me luck.”

Webb got up, walking out of the conference room and then into the interrogation room area. Hotch was currently standing on one side of the mirror, and the suspect was sitting on the other side at the table. Lee looked sullen, and his gaze was intense. Webb entered the side Hotch was in, and said, “Hey Boss. Have you gotten anywhere with him yet?”

Hotch turned to him with a raised eyebrow, and said, “Not really. How was your night?”

“It was alright. Yours?”

“It was… Uneventful. He’s not talking at all. JJ took over for a while after me, and we finally let him sleep and headed to the hotel at around midnight. We got back up here at eight-ish. I tried to talk to him a bit this morning, but nothing once again.”

Webb nodded, carefully eying the guy in the room across from them. “JJ said it would be okay if I gave it a shot. I’m technically his type, and if that doesn’t do it, he’s gonna be pissed since I was the one who shot him.”

Hotch seemed to be in agreement, even though his face changed very little. “Mmm. Go for it. Do you want me to go in with you?”

“No- well… Not yet. If I need help I’ll let you know,” Webb said, grabbing the file and starting out of the room.

Webb entered the interrogation room silently and sat down across from the man. He flipped through the file for a few moments, not looking up at him and using the time to refresh on the case. They sat in silence for a while before the man spoke up, on his own, which was honestly shocking to Webb. He figured he’d have to pry anything out of him. “You’re the asshole who shot me,” He said with a sneering tone.

Webb finally raised his eyes to meet Lee’s, and he raised a brow. “And? You’re lucky I didn’t miss.”

The unsub tensed slightly and glared at him intensely, quieting again. “Lee Finley, right? My name’s Agent Nathan Webb, and I’m with the BAU. You’ve met some of my colleagues, I believe.”

“Oh I met them,” Lee said, crossing his arms.

“Mmhm. And they tell me that you’ve been wholly uncooperative. Now, why’s that? Why are you talking with me?” Webb asked, raising a brow, “Is it because I shot you? Are you angry?”

Lee smiled a bit and hummed, “Mmm, not entirely.”

Webb leaned forward and tilted his head, “Well regardless of your reasoning as to why you want to talk to me, I have a few questions for you. You think you could answer them for me, Lee?”

“Maybe.”

Webb sighed and sat back, “Let’s start with some basics. Do you recognise this man?”

He started to lay out the photos of the victims one by one and gauged Lee’s reaction to each photo. He named each person after he got an initial response, waiting for an additional response until he got to to the last victim. So far, he hadn’t gotten any form of response beyond a shrug. But when he put out the last photo and got another shrug, he decided to try something. “Lukas Roberts.”

Lee’s eye twitched slightly and he clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say anything. Webb raised a brow slightly before saying, “No, sorry, that was another case. His name is Sam Carter.”

“No. No, it’s not,” Lee said with a low growl.

“No?” Web frowned, doing a pretty good job of faking confusion, “I could have sworn he was Sam.”

He started to flick through the files, pretending to look, before he frowned and started to reach for the photo. Lee jolted forward, grabbing Webb’s hand and snarling, “His name is Cole Hall.”

Webb raised his eyebrows and let a small smile spread over his lips. “Is it now? That’s interesting, considering you weren’t sure if you’d seen him before when I showed you the photo.”

Webb retracted his hand from Lee’s grip and pulled all of the photos back to himself as Lee got quiet and continued to glare at him. Webb shuffled through the files for a few moments and started to go through the dates. He asked him about each of the dates and times the murders were supposed to have happened and watched his responses. Lee kept quiet and seemed to be trying not to react, although his jaw clenched here and there. After Webb finished, and Lee didn’t react anymore, Webb sighed and stood up, “I guess that’s all, then,” he said, heading to the door.

Lee didn’t respond, and Webb exited the interrogation room and headed in to see Hotch. He saw that Reid and JJ were also in the room. He held up the file victoriously and grinned, “That was something, right?”

Hotch’s expression didn’t outwardly change much, but Webb could see that he was somewhat pleased with his work judging by his body language. “Definitely better than how we did,” JJ said, smiling.

“I think we’re going to have to work him a little longer, but that was a great start,” Reid said, sounding pleased as well.

“We’ll give him time to cool off before sending someone else in,” Hotch said sternly, taking the file from Webb.

They ended up waiting for a few hours, with a rotating cast going in to speak with him. Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi all showed up one by one as the interrogation went on. Eventually, they got him to give a confession, albeit it took a while and it took everyone going in at least twice. Once they got the confession, they all ended up heading to the jet after packing up their things from the hotel and began their journey back to DC.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webb's first case comes to an end

The team had settled on the plane, with JJ and Hotch both settling down for a nap, with Webb assuming that it was likely due to their lack of sleep last night. Rossi had taken on the role of doing the paperwork, which left Morgan, Prentiss, Reid and Webb to sit and chat on the plane. Prentiss and Reid sat closest to the aisle and were playing cards, while Morgan and Webb sat across from each other and were chatting about their old cases on emergency response teams - with Morgan on the bomb squad and Webb on SWAT. “You’re telling me you had to disarm a bomb that complex in fifteen seconds? And you were able to? That’s pretty impressive.”

“Thanks, man. I think you being able to snipe a guy with a hostage is pretty impressive.”

Prentiss looked over at the two of them and asked, “Are you talking about the one he shot from almost one thousand feet away?”

“I see you read my file,” Webb said with a scoff.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised, and so did Reid’s, as he glanced over. “I wasn’t, but now I am- You made a shot like that?” Morgan asked, staring at Webb.

Webb gave a sheepish smile and nervously laughed as he said, “I mean, I did, but I wasn’t going to brag about that one. It was a fluke. I’ve never been that accurate at that distance ever again.”

“So you’ve successfully shot multiple guys holding hostages, is what I’m hearing?” Morgan said with a laugh.

“That is accurate, yes,” Webb confirmed.

Reid and Morgan both looked impressed, and Reid said, “I’m glad we have someone with your sharpshooting abilities on the team. Especially considering a lot of small towns don’t exactly have a SWAT sniper on hand at all times.”

Webb smiled a bit and chuckled, “I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m here, yeah? I mean, the art knowledge is helpful, but Reid and Garcia combined could probably do the same thing given some time. The sniping is a… rarer talent.”

“That may be true, but time isn’t always on our side. Your expertise is appreciated,” Prentiss reminded.

Webb shrugged and let the conversation lull, with Prentiss and Reid finishing their hand of cards. Once they finished, Prentiss held her hands up in defeat and said in exasperation, “I don’t even know why I try to beat you in poker anymore, Reid. It’s just impossible.”

“It’s not impossible at all. If you take time to learn the -”

“Reid, I’m not learning the formula, and I don’t have the mental capacity to count cards,” Prentiss huffed.

Webb raised his brow slightly and looked between them, “You know, you didn’t strike me as the poker playing type, doctor Reid… But then Prentiss said formula and card counting. Purely out of interest… What’s the formula?”

Reid perked up a bit and started off explaining the formula, with Webb listening carefully. Once he did, Webb nodded a little bit and smirked, “Well, I’m not quite the mathematic genius like you, but I think I’m good enough at counting cards. I think I want to give a game a try. You play hold ‘em?”

Prentiss shook her head a little bit and laughed to herself before standing up, “You can take my spot then. I’m going to get some coffee.”

Reid picked up all the cards and started to shuffle, while Webb scooted over to sit across from him. “I hope you’re ready to have your ass handed to you, Webb,” Morgan teased while Reid dealt the cards.

“Oh, I don’t doubt I will… At least, until I get a handle on how he plays,” Webb said with a chuckle, picking up the cards that Reid dealt him, “I’m known for hustling the college kids back home.”

Reid raised his brows slightly and looked at his own hand of cards. They ended up playing a few hands with Reid winning every hand they bet on. As Reid laid down his last hand, Webb smiled. “I think I’ve figured out your style. One more hand, doc?”

Reid sighed and nodded, “If you say so.”

Reid shuffled the cards once more and dealt the cards to both of them before starting to lay the flop out. The initial flop contained two sevens and a king. Webb glanced at his cards for a moment before nodding, “I’m in.”

Reid nodded and played the next card. It was a ten. Webb double-checked his cards, the action mostly for show, before nodding again for Reid to toss out the last card. It was a four. “Well, I hope you’re ready to lose again,” Said the doctor cockily, and laid out his cards, showing that he had a seven and a six, “Three of a kind. Sevens.”

Webb smirked and raised his brows, “You’re cocky. But last time I checked, a full house beats a three of a kind,” Webb tossed his cards down on the table and grinned widely, as had been dealt a seven and a ten. “Good game, Reid.”

Reid narrowed his eyes and glared at the cards, while Morgan burst out laughing, “Holy shit! You actually beat him. That’s impressive.”

Prentiss perked up from her coffee and looked over at the cards, her eyes widening. “Woah, that’s impressive. It took me months to win just one hand, and I’m pretty sure Reid let me win that one.”

Webb smiled a little bit as Reid eventually stopped glaring at the cards and looked up at him. “Let’s do another hand.”

Webb chuckled and nodded, and began to shuffle the cards himself. They played a few more hands, and Webb ended up winning two of the five hands they played. At the end of the game, Reid said, “I think you’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Webb smirked a bit winked at him, “Now you’re just flattering me, doctor. I’ve just been playing cards since I was a kid. All of my family plays, and we were very competitive.”

Reid looked a little embarrassed at the wink, and mumbled, “I just think you’re a lot smarter than the self-proclaimed ‘art guy with some sharpshooting skills’.”

Morgan and Prentiss both seemed to be in agreement, and Webb shrugged a bit. “I mean, I was always in the gifted and AP classes as a kid, but I was raised in the south. No offence to Texas and Lousiana public schools but the normal classes weren’t quite   
‘average’.”

Reid smiled a little bit at that and chuckled, “Well that’s fair enough. I was raised in Las Vegas, but I graduated high school at twelve.”

“Pretty sure Nevada has a better school system than the deep south, but if it matters, I did skip a few grades as well. Nothing spectacular like skipping six years, but I did graduate a bit early,” Webb hummed, spinning his fidget ring absentmindedly.

Morgan raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “How the hell are the rest of us supposed to keep up with you guys?”

Prentiss chuckled a bit and said, “I think they’ll be busy keeping up with each other.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The flight landed about an hour after Reid and Webb had finished their card game, after which Webb also decided to take a nap. He woke up once the plane hit the ground, jolting him awake. “Mother fucker-” he swore, grabbing the table as they landed.

Morgan laughed at his response and chuckled, “Morning, kid. How’d you sleep?”

Webb grumbled softly to himself and muttered, “Slept fine.”

Once the plane came to a full stop, they all started to climb out of their seats and out of the plane. It didn’t take them long to get off of the plane and into Quantico, and they all packed into the elevator to head upstairs. Once they got upstairs, they were greeted by Garcia, who was holding up a platter of drinks and snacks. “Welcome back!” she cheered, and everyone gave her a smile and greeted her.

When Webb exited the elevator, he looked at the tray she was holding and hummed, “What’s in these drinks? And what’s with the snacks?”

“Oh, they’re just a few little cocktails that I whipped up. And you better get used to the snacks, Nathan! I usually pick some up before you guys get back to make the paperwork more bearable.”

Webb raised a brow and reached for a drink and said, “Well don’t mind if I do, then. I think I’ve still got some leftover transfer paperwork to do.”

Webb took a sip of the cocktail and walked into the bullpen of the BAU, and spotted the empty desk that was supposed to be his. He sat down at the desk, tossing his go-bag underneath his desk and starting to set everything up.

Everyone settled into their desks and paperwork, working quietly with occasional outbursts of chatter. Those outbursts were usually followed by Hotch calling out for everyone to quiet down. That was, until six o’clock rolled around. Once six o’clock rolled around, everyone started to get off track, since the workday was technically over. Garcia had started walking around and was checking in on everyone, being very friendly. Webb noticed that Garcia spent a lot of time sitting and chatting with Morgan, but he tried to focus on his own work as best he could. He was almost done with his paperwork anyway. Eventually, he heard Garcia walk over, and he looked up with a slight smile. “Hey, Garcia.”

“Hey, Nathan!” She chirped, “How’s your work going?”

“Pretty good. I’m just about done. How’s yours?” Webb asked, signing one of his papers. 

“Oh, I don’t have much work to do. I have a program that automatically logs all of the things I do online so unless I have to do something that I shouldn’t be doing, I can just automatically send off all of my paperwork,” She admitted, patting his back.

Webb glanced over and raised his brows, “Think you can set up something like that for me? It’d make all this transfer paperwork go much faster.”

Garcia laughed and shook her head, “No can do, Nathan. You don’t have a coded record of everything you do out on the field.”

He sighed and shrugged, before writing down a few more things on the remaining forms and standing up. “I’m gonna drop these with Hotch before I head home for the night. Do you need a ride back to your place?”

“No, I’m okay actually. Thank you, though!” Garcia replied with a smile, “You have a good night. Welcome to the team!”

Webb smiled and gently nudged her as he walked up to Hotch’s office and knocked on the door before cracking it, and peeking inside. “Hey, boss. I’ve got all my paperwork done.”

“Come in, Nathan,” Said Hotch, his voice calm and soothing.

Webb stepped inside the room and put his papers on the desk, and Hotch looked up for a moment before asking, “How was your first case? Off the record, of course. How do you feel?”

“I mean- It went well,” He replied honestly, tilting his head slightly, “I do wish that the situation surrounding the takedown was different, and I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to use my sharpshooting skills for a while, but I suppose we don’t always get the luxury of choosing when we do and don’t have to shoot.”

Hotch nodded in agreement and hummed, “That’s very true. I hope you don’t have to continue to use those skills. The BAU prides itself on non-violent takedowns.”

Webb looked a little abashed and nodded, “I know, sir. It just seemed best at the time as the unsub was firing at-”

“I’m not chastising you. It was the right move,” Hotch assured, raising a hand to keep him from rambling, “You’re doing just fine.”

He shifted a bit, nervous, and nodded, “Thanks, boss.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” Hotch instructed, and Webb nodded in agreement.

“Bright and early,” Webb said with a slight smile, before walking out of the office and down to the bullpen, grabbing his go-bag and a few of his belongings. He was about to start out of the building before he saw that Reid was still sitting at his desk. Garcia and Morgan had left, leaving Prentiss in the bullpen with them, with JJ, Rossi and Hotch still in their offices.

Webb hesitated for a moment before he walked over to Reid and gently patted his shoulder, causing the younger male to jump slightly. “Hey, Reid. I’m about to head home, and I remembered we live kinda close to each other. You need a ride?”

Reid looked up at Webb and then back down at his paperwork before saying, “I- I have a few more papers to finish but I can get them done at home… I could use a ride.”

Webb raised his eyebrows and hummed, “I can give you a few minutes if you need. Its no rush.”

Reid shook his head and started gathering his things, picking up a few files as well before standing. “I’m ready to go. I’d honestly prefer to do my paperwork at home. It’s more comfortable.”

Webb chuckled a bit in agreement and shouldered his bag as the pair started towards the elevator. Webb hit the button and looked over at Reid, “How do you normally get here?”

“Bus… Or train,” Reid replied, glancing over at him, “You drove but you don’t live very far, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know it’s shit for the environment for me to be driving by myself, but I find driving to be very soothing,” he replied with a laugh.

The elevator dinged as it opened, and they both stepped in. “Driving rarely causes calm in people in our line of work. I’ve read studies that show that it often causes increased tension because we are more likely to be involved in car crashes, carjackings, IEDs, and other related incidents that happen in cars,” Reid said with a chipper tone, “And we all are in what many people would consider to be a high-risk career which would make us more likely to suffer from ‘road rage’ or general stress while driving.”

Webb looked over at Reid and raised his brows slightly, “What do the statistics say about those who are calm while driving?”

“Well, there’s not much on it because people don’t really report that sort of thing,” Reid said with a shrug, “But most people who enjoy driving enjoy feeling free, and travelling, and may have some issues stemming from their home life as a-”

Reid stopped himself and looked to Webb sheepishly, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to psychoanalyse you.”

Webb’s expression remained neutral, and he replied, “It’s alright. I expected as much, deciding to work with a bunch of profilers,” his gaze flicked over to Reid, “I mean, I’m not going to confirm nor deny any of it, but it’s not like any of I can turn off my ability to read people. And I doubt you can turn yours off, doctor.”

The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor, and they started towards the exit. Reid seemed to be in agreement and nodded along as they walked out to Webb’s car. They climbed in, and Webb started the car, heading in the direction of Reid’s apartment. It didn’t take them long to get there, and once Webb pulled off to the side of the road, Reid asked, “Coffee in the morning?”

“Sure thing. You have my number, right? Call me when you’re up.”

Reid smiled a bit and nodded before climbing out of the car and waving as Webb drove off.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Case! Now with more pining (the case itself is fairly similar to the one in Season 11, Episode 5 - The Night Watch, but I can’t say that it is inspired by it because I hadn’t gotten there when I started writing the outline for this lmao)

A few months had passed since Nathan Webb was introduced to the team, and throughout these few months, he had settled in nicely with the team and had settled into a routine (at least, as much as a routine as they could have in their line of work). Every day, assuming they weren’t out on a case, he’d pick up Reid in the morning and they’d get coffee together, sometimes picking up something for the rest of the team. Once they got to the office, Webb would grab whatever paperwork that he had to complete and head into Garcia’s office and work on his stuff while chatting with her. At some point during the day, Reid would come in and ask if Webb could go over a cold case or an older case that had been solved and see what he thought, usually a case related to artwork in some way. Webb would be happy to go over the case as long as Reid did the rest of Webb’s paperwork in exchange.

That’d usually tie him over until three, and he’d be able to spend time shooting at the range with either Reid or Morgan, or sometimes with Prentiss. He also spends some time with JJ and Hotch going over incoming cases and usually rounds out the day talking with Rossi about luxury drinks. Once six o’clock rolls around, the team would usually either head out for drinks as a team or head home one-by-one, with Reid usually catching a ride with Webb back home.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get to enjoy this type of routine for very long. No more than three days at a time. Webb was woken up at four AM by his phone ringing, and he scrambled to grab his phone, and opened it with a grumble, “Nathan Webb,” He answered groggily, his voice clearly tired and raspy.

“We’ve got a case. How quickly can you get here?” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“Case-?” He started to sit up and squinted at his clock, and when he was unable to read it fumbled for his glasses, “I can be there in thirty minutes if I really rush. Thirty-five if I have to get Reid, forty-five if I can get coffee on the way.”

“Get coffee for the rest of the team as well. Get here within the hour,” Hotch said, before hanging up.

Webb groaned and flopped back onto the bed, allowing himself to rest for a few minutes before getting up and starting to get ready for the day. He dialled Reid’s number and when he didn’t get an answer, grumbled to himself. He continued getting dressed before calling him again. He didn’t get an answer and grumbled to himself as he started down to his car. He ended up calling Reid two more times before he finally pulled into the parking lot outside Reid’s building. Webb considered calling him again, but decided against it and climbed out of the car. He made his way up to Reid’s room and knocked on the door. Silence. He knocked for a second time and called out, “Reid! Its Nathan. Wake up, kid!”

This time he heard shuffling and things moving around, and Webb knocked one more time, “Doc! Wake up!”

Within a few seconds, Reid opened the door, looking entirely dishevelled. He wore a tee-shirt, which was bizarre to Webb, and sweatpants. His shirt was loosely hanging off of his frame, showing his collarbone and neck in what Webb would consider an obscene fashion. His sweatpants, however, were hanging in an entirely obscene fashion, with the fabric hanging low on his hips and showing off his v-line and a little bit of his stomach. “What- what is it?”

Webb stared at him for a second, eyeing his form before saying, “We’ve got a case. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer. I figured you were asleep and that your phone was on silent or something. You alright?”

Reid sighed and shook his head, stepping back a bit, “I’m fine. I think my phone is dead. Give me a minute to get ready. Come in.”

Webb nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He took a moment to look around the main sitting room and admired all of the books on the shelves. Reid vanished back into his room for a few minutes before returning, now shirtless and wearing slacks instead of sweatpants. Webb wasn’t sure if this was better or worse for his blood-pressure and composure. Reid looked over and asked, “What’s the case?”

“Dunno. Hotch just told me to come in within the hour. It seemed urgent.”

Reid pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it quickly, and Webb watched his fingers move deftly. He shook his head slightly and looked away, trying not to let his thoughts get preoccupied right before they had to go in on a case. He’d become more and more aware of his attraction to the young doctor as his time working with the BAU went on, and this wasn’t exactly helping. Webb let his attention settle on the books around the room, and asked, “Do you keep these books after you’ve read them? Seems counterintuitive for someone with an eidetic memory.”

“Huh? Oh- I keep my favourites. The ones on that shelf-” he pointed at one of them, the biggest of all of the shelves. “I buy and sell a lot of books at a time. I don’t sell everything once I finish it though.”

Webb looked around at all of the books on the floor, on the tables, overflowing the shelves and teetering off of the surfaces. “I can see that, Spencer. You’ve got a shit ton of books, doc.”

Reid continued to get dressed, tying his tie and pulling a sweater vest over his clothes. “Let me grab my go-bag, and then we can head into work.”

Webb nodded and let his eyes scan the books. Arthur Conan Doyle, Truman Capote, Leonore Fleischer, Patricia Highsmith, John Fowles, Chaucer, Dante… Just about what he would expect. Lots of classics and things you’d read in a literature class. Reid eventually emerged from his room, go-bag in hand, and said, “I’m ready.”

The pair headed down to Webb’s car and drove off, making a stop at one of the coffee shops along the way and picking up drinks for everyone. They drove in mostly silence, as they were both still a little dazed from the early wake-up call, but eventually, Reid spoke up, “Sorry for not answering the phone.”

“It’s no problem, doc. I didn’t mind,” Webb said with a chuckle, “I mean, it’s a little weird to see you in something other than your grandpa-college professor clothes, but that’s it.”

Reid glanced over with that wounded-puppy-eyes look that he sometimes got, and whined, “I do not dress like a grandfather.”

“Doc, you wear sweater vests. In the twenty-first century. Don’t even get me started on the patterns. Don’t get me wrong- it suits you- but you definitely dress like an old man,” Webb replied, glancing over and making eye contact, “It really does suit you though, Reid.”

He frowned a little and mumbled, “Well how did the tee-shirt and sweatpants outfit look?”

Ravishing, Webb thought to himself, stammering a bit as he said, “I-well… New. I’ve never seen you dressed like that before. But I think it looks alright, I mean, it’s not work-appropriate or anything but it looked fine. Baggy clothes tend to look nice on you.”

 _And they hang off of you in a way that should be illegal_ , he added to himself. Reid’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t ask anything else, which left them to just sit in a slightly awkward silence as they drove the rest of the way to the office. They made their way into the BAU, each carrying a few cups of coffee. When they got there, everyone except else had arrived, and Garcia was flicking through the photos on the screen. Webb squinted at them as he put the coffees down and said, “The bodies look like they’re in an art gallery.”

Garcia sighed, “That’s where you’d be right, handsome. This is the third art dealer killed like this in Portland. The first one was Chloe Mitchell, and she appears to be bludgeoned to death. ME report says the weapon was most likely a crowbar, and the police ruled it a robbery gone wrong because there was a sculpture missing from the gallery, namely the one on the podium where her body was found,” Garcia flashed a few photos on-screen, shuddering as she accidentally caught a glimpse, “The second was Courtney Holmes, who, according to the ME, was killed by a slash to the throat with some sort of blade, before she was slashed repeatedly post-mortem. She was posed on the podium of another stolen art piece.”

Garcia started to flip through more photos and Morgan grimaced, “Robbery gone wrong to posed bodies is one hell of an escalation.”

Prentiss scoffed, “Wait till you get to the next slide.”

Garcia flipped to the next photo, and said, “Our most recent victim is Travis Blackburn. He was found last night. The ME report isn’t back yet, but the sculpture that was on podium that he was found on was not stolen, but looks like it was destroyed when it was knocked off of the podium.”

“What’s the timeframe on these?” Asked Reid.

“First two were one month apart, and the second and third were two weeks apart,” Hotch said with a frown.

“Like Morgan said, that’s one hell of an escalation,” JJ remarked.

Rossi crossed his arms and said slowly, “Well, if he’s cutting his time in half every time he kills, that means we have a week before we have to deal with another body.”

Webb flipped through the photos before he said, “I’m going to need a list of the galleries and information on the stolen pieces. And since the first murder was a robbery gone wrong, I think it might be a good idea to look into any previous thefts in the area,” he looked at Garcia with a raised eyebrow, “Just looking at what we have right now, I think the connection between the victims is obviously that they work at the gallery. I doubt there’s going to be much more of a connection since the first kill was a robbery gone wrong, and so our best chance of finding the unsub is working through the galleries and pieces that were stolen.”

The team went over the info that they had for another ten minutes or so before Hotch gave the order for “wheels up”. They made their way onto the jet and continued to work through the information. So far, they had nothing, as far as forensic evidence goes. The fact that the unsub started as a thief meant that he was careful to not leave any fingerprints, DNA, or allow any clear shots of their face or any identifying marks on any of the security cameras. After they went through all of the info they had, they started to cycle through napping, catching up on the sleep lost due to the early-morning wakeup call. Those that were awake would look over the information over and over, trying to find anything that they had missed, or work what they new from a different angle. Mostly everyone was awake, although JJ looked like she was half-asleep, when Garcia called in, the computer beeping as her image showed up on the screen. “Multnomah County Police just sent over the ME report on the latest victim. I’ve sent it to your tablets, and am faxing a copy for our beloved doctor. Let me know if there’s anything else you guys need.”

As Garcia logged off, everyone picked up their tablets, except for Reid, who was glaring at the offending devices as he stood to grab the printed copy from the printer. Morgan spoke up first, “All of the wounds were inflicted antemortem. He tortured him. I think this means we’re dealing with a sadist, but since the victims aren’t a specific type and are both male and female, I’m not sure if he’s a sexual sadist.”

Webb shook his head, “I don’t think so. He’s experimenting. Playing. I wouldn’t classify this as entirely classic sadistic torture. He doesn’t seem like he was initially drawn to torture or initially wanted to torture.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, “On what grounds?”

“Well, look at the body on the second vic. Since he was killed via blood loss, it’s very likely that the additional wounds that were inflicted postmortem didn’t bleed as much as he expected or wanted. And when you look at the first body, there was a shit ton of blood and a shit ton of injuries,” he said, “I could be wrong, but I feel like when the unsub killed the first victim, it woke something up in him. He liked killing him, liked the blood. He killed the second time, adding in a knife for ease, but felt like something was missing. Kills the third vic, this time with the attacks before the killing blow. Not because he wanted to torture the victim, but because he didn’t get the right reaction. He might escalate more, or devolve if he’s not getting the same satisfaction. If we don’t catch this guy, he might revert back to the crowbar. I just don’t think he’s doing this because he’s a typical sadist. Not with the way he started out.”

Prentiss nodded along and continued to look over the photos. “That makes sense, honestly. You don’t typically start out as a robbery-gone-wrong if you’re a textbook sadist.”

Reid frowned a bit before saying, “Well that would be true if we were looking at our typical serial killer who’s in their late twenties and early thirties. What if our unsub is younger? The sophistication of the theft itself doesn’t point to an adolescent unsub, but maybe one in their early twenties?”

“Maybe younger if they had an absent parent, or if both were absent,” JJ interjected.

Everyone seemed in agreement, but they really couldn’t make a decision on whether or not the unsub was a younger sadist just getting started and figuring out what he liked, or if he was older and hadn’t had the urge to kill before killing out of necessity woke something inside of him. Not until they got more information.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still working on the new case!

When their flight finally landed, it was about noon, and the team decided to split into groups before climbing into their SUVs. JJ, Reid and Webb were all sent to the station, while Prentiss, Morgan, Hotch and Rossi all went to the crime scene. The team at the station started getting set up, with JJ working on her usual communications liaison front, talking to the members of the force and discussing their media strategy. Reid started working on the geographical profile, linking all of the locations together, while Webb started looking over all of the artwork and gallery information he had been given by Garcia, which was a considerable amount.

“I’m going to need your brain in a few minutes, doc. Or at least, your twenty-thousand words a minute reading pace and eidetic memory,” Webb said with a grumble, before standing up and starting to print out the synopsis and artist statements of the pieces that were stolen or broken.

Reid looked over from the whiteboard and frowned a bit. “Are you printing it out for me?”

“And myself. I need to highlight shit.”

One set of papers finished printing, and he grabbed them off of the bed of the printer, while a second set started printing. Webb sat down with those papers and started to highlight and circle like a madman. By the time the second set of papers were finished printing, Reid had finished with the preliminary geographical profile, and had narrowed down the comfort zone to a roughly fifteen-mile radius. “What do you want me to read through?”

“There’s another copy on the printer if you want to read through it all on your own. I’m highlighting shit in this stack. Art terms that pop up a lot, artists, things like that. We can compare notes,” Webb replied, sighing as he spun his pen, flipping through the papers.

As they worked through the papers, JJ eventually returned and started to write up a warning to give to the public and the galleries. It didn’t take long for Reid to finish up the papers, and he started writing down a list. Once Webb finished, he tossed the papers down and rubbed his temples. “I’m done with mine, doc. Care to go over it with your info in mind?”

“Sure thing.”

It didn’t take long for Reid to read over it and for them to compile key terms and names. When they did, Reid started writing things out on the board, and Webb watched intently. Mostly, he was watching to see what Reid added to what Webb considered to be the key clues to look into, but he was also watching the way Reid moved when he got invested, excited even. Webb hadn’t previously considered himself to be a sapiosexual, but with how ridiculously smart the doctor was, and how often his genius came into play, he definitely wondered how much it played into his attraction. Unfortunately for Webb’s wandering mind, his phone rang, forcing him to pick up the phone. “SSA Nathan Webb.”

“Why hello there, Cassanova. Who’s your favourite person in the whole wide world?” Garcia said in a faux-sultry, playful tone.

“Mmm at the moment, I’d have to go with our beloved doctor Reid. However, that may change depending on what you tell me, hotness,” Webb said with a smirk, eyeing Reid as the other male turned around and narrowed his eyes, looking confused.

JJ glanced over as well, smiling a bit with amusement as Garcia replied. “I am truly hurt, but I think I’ll be able to win you over with this - I looked into similar thefts, namely ones in galleries in the area, and I’ve found two more. I’ve sent all of the info to you guys.”

Webb smiled a bit and purred, “Oh Garcia, how you amaze me. Expect a bottle of wine on me when we get back.”

They hung up, and Webb opened up his email, looking at the info she had sent over. “Alright. Looks like we’ve got some new info. I would imagine if there’s some importance to the pieces being stolen, the first one will give us a better idea of who our unsub is. And I’d imagine it’s not about the money, since the piece stolen in the first murder wasn’t easy to grab or super expensive.”

He sent the info to the printer and grabbed the papers, handing over one of the stacks to Reid while he started looking at his own. He circled and highlighted everything he deemed important, while Reid finished the papers quickly and started writing his own notes. “And none of these pieces were ever sold?” Reid asked, looking up from his papers.

“Doesn’t look like it. Nothing on Garcia’s searches,” Webb said with a sigh, before raising his eyebrows, “Isn’t Zac Robertson the same artist whose piece was stolen in the first murder?”

“Yeah-” Reid rummaged through the papers and picked it up, pointing at it. “What about the other pieces?”

“Nothing that connects the two yet… Let me do some more research into this, you work on seeing if there’s anything else that connects these pieces,” Webb said, before settling into researching the two pieces from the same artist, and the artist himself.

They settled into research for another hour, working on their different angles before the rest of the team returned back from the crime scene. “Hey guys, find anything interesting?” Prentiss asked, patting Webb on the back as they walked into the room.

“Maybe,” Reid said, pointing at where they had written the artist’s name. “Garcia found that there were two thefts before the murders, and Zac Robertson is the artist of the first theft and the first murder. Garcia pulled legal and medical records on the guy and there doesn’t seem to be anything of importance there. Some minor drug charges and some antidepressants and psychiatrists, but according to Nathan, nothing out of the norm for an artist.”

“You’d be surprised how many artists only produce art when they’re high off their ass. The antidepressants are pretty self-explanatory,” Webb said with a grin, “Made for some fun studio classes.”

Morgan looked amused, but Hotch fixed him with a stern glare. “Anything else?” He asked.

“I found something about the first piece - there was apparently some drama regarding it, as a different artist had created the same piece a few months before this artist. Some accusations of plagiarism and art theft. I think it might be a good idea to talk to the gallery owners to see if anyone has shown hostility over the pieces or the artist or anything like that. I couldn’t find the real name of the original artist that Robertson copied since that artist uses an alias, but I’m sure if I ask around or get Garcia to do a deep-dive, I could find it,” Webb said, “We should also talk to Robertson himself.”

Hotch seemed satisfied with that and nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. Unfortunately, most of the galleries are closed right now. See if you can call them or email them and set up a time to meet tomorrow. JJ, you’ve got a plan with the media?”

“I’m doing the best I can. I’ve got a write up to send out, but I think its safe to say that it’s too early to say anything to the media besides ‘be careful if you’re going to be alone in an art gallery’,” JJ said, holding up a piece of paper.

“Anything else?” Hotch asked, looking at the three of them.

Reid spoke up, “We’ve got the geographical profile nailed down to a roughly fifteen-mile radius. If we get any more victims, we’ll likely be able to narrow it down even further. Unfortunately, since the unsub is only noticeably working in one area, we don’t have any secondary points to use to make the comfort area smaller.”

Hotch seemed satisfied, and everyone sat down for a few minutes as they talked over the events of the day, with Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss talking them through what they found at the crime scene. Hotch and JJ eventually broke off to go over the media strategy, and Webb broke off to try and make some calls and send some emails to the galleries and artists. By the time they all got back to the round table, everyone looked exhausted and were starting to get off-topic from the case.

Hotch scanned the group, allowing them to chatter quietly among each other for a few more minutes before he said with a hum, “Alright everyone, I think that’s enough for the night. We’re not going to get anywhere tired and without meeting with the galleries and artists. Let’s head back to the hotel.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as they all started to gather their go-bags and anything they wanted to bring back to their rooms for the night, before starting out of the station and getting into their cars. The drive was fairly quiet for both cars, with only a little bit of chatter as they drove in the direction of the hotel. Eventually, they arrived, with the team climbing out and starting inside.

As everyone walked into the lobby of the hotel, Hotch began talking to the receptionist, while the team stood around with tired eyes and the occasional yawn. It took a few minutes, but Hotch eventually returned and held up a few keycards. “Unfortunately, they’re packed right now. Everyone else is going to have to share rooms.”

Everyone groaned softly with annoyance, especially since everyone was exhausted from the long flight followed by working the case for a long while. “Everyone else?” Rossi asked.

“Well, we have an odd number, and I’m the Unit Chief.”

“Well, I’m not rooming with Reid,” Morgan said, to which Rossi agreed.

Webb rolled his eyes and hummed, “Quit it guys. I’ll room with him.”

Reid pouted a little bit as the others teased him, before looking to Webb with a slight smile and puppy eyes. JJ and Prentiss would share the remaining room, and Hotch handed out the keycards to the rooms. “Don’t worry about waking up too early, guys, but no later than noon, got it?”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement and started up to their rooms, moving sluggishly as they exited the elevator on different floors. The hotel truly was packed, so much so that they couldn’t get rooms on the same floor. Webb and Reid got off on the sixth floor and headed to their room. Once they got in, they each tossed their go-bags on the floor and started getting ready for bed. They both started to get changed into their sleepwear. Reid was in something similar to what he wore this morning, but with different coloured pants. Webb was wearing baggy shorts that hung loosely around his waist and a tank top. They eyed each other for a moment before Webb said, “Which side do you prefer?”

“I usually sleep in the middle…” Reid said with a little bit of a pout, before saying, “The left side.”

“Then I’ll take the right. Fair warning though, doc, I tend to gravitate to any warmth in the bed with me. Feel free to just shove me off or wake me up,” Webb said with a chuckle, starting to pull the covers back of the bed.

Reid looked a little flustered at the idea but nodded, and started to climb in on the other side. “I’ll likely gravitate towards the middle, so feel free to shove me back onto my side.”

Webb laughed a bit and shook his head as he pulled the covers up. They both settled into bed, shifting awkwardly every once in a while before eventually falling asleep. It came quickly, considering how tired they were. They slept soundly, and thanks to Hotch’s decision that they could sleep as long as they needed, they didn’t need to worry about being woken up by an alarm.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some discussion of feelings, some fluff, and some backstory on my OCs part

Webb woke up first and tensed up almost immediately when he realised the position he was in. He was nuzzled into Reid’s chest, with one arm curled in against his stomach and the other wrapped around the other male. Reid’s arm wrapped around him as well, and their legs were tangled together. Webb considered moving, but he couldn’t think of a way to escape without waking him up, especially since the doctor’s chin was tucked onto the top of Webb’s head, almost holding him in place.

 _Fuck. How am I supposed to deal with this? He’s a coworker, and even though I don’t think anyone on the team would care too much about this, we’re definitely not supposed to be cuddling while on company time._ Webb shifted a little bit, seeing how much wiggle-room he had, before Reid let out a subconscious grunt, sounding displeased, and pulling Webb in closer. _God damnit… There’s no way for me to get out of this without waking him up. I guess I can just… sit here, relax._ It took a little while, but eventually, Webb managed to relax in Reid’s arms, listening to his breathing and the little noises he made subconsciously. It was nice, he supposed, hearing the doctor so relaxed. It also gave him time to examine him more closely, although his angle was a bit off. He could see Reid’s hips peeking out from under his sweats and his shirt, and he could feel Reid’s muscles from where they touched.

Webb was able to occupy his mind for a little while with this, but it was also meant it was very easy for him to notice when Reid started to wake up. His breathing changed, becoming a little quicker and more ragged. Webb tried to stay still and relaxed, not moving. Reid stiffened a little bit and let out a quiet huff, before moving his arms slightly. What he wasn’t expecting was Reid’s hand gently moving over his back and then into his hair. He then heard Reid let out a quiet noise that sounded like satisfaction, which was not what Webb was expecting. Reid continued to gently pet his hair, so lightly that he could barely feel it, which Webb assumed was so Reid didn’t ‘wake him up’.

Webb didn’t move, now that Reid was awake, his mind entirely focused on the fleeting sensation of the other petting his hair coupled with his soft breathing. _Why is he petting me? He’s awake, I can tell by his change in breathing, so this isn’t him doing this subconsciously…_ “Nathan, are you awake?” Reid asked quietly.

He almost didn’t hear him, and coupled with his embarrassment regarding the situation, Webb’s response took a few moments. “Mm,” he replied, not trusting himself to speak coherently.

“Good morning,” Reid said softly, and Webb could feel him smiling a little bit.

“Mornin’,” Webb grumbled, starting to slowly shift back away from the other, looking up at him.

“When you said you gravitated towards warmth in your sleep… I didn’t think you meant that you clung to whatever warmth there was,” Reid chuckled softly.

“Spencer, you’re on my side of the bed, and you’re the one curled around me. You aren’t even close to being in the middle-” Webb rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hand, while Reid looked at him with a slight smile. “Anyway, you were the one petting me when you woke up.”

Reid’s smile didn’t falter, and he shrugged a bit before saying, “Your hair is soft. And you looked cute while you were sleeping.”

Webb’s thought process stuttered again. _Cute? How the fuck am I supposed to pretend to be unphased by all of this if he says shit like that._ “Cute?” He managed to ask, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah… I mean, you’re attractive, but when you’re asleep, you look like you’re… relaxed. Happier,” Reid said with a hum, reaching over to gently touch his hair again.

Webb tensed a little bit before relaxing into his hand with a sigh. “You tend to be more relaxed when you’re asleep. That’s kind of the point, and I don’t need to be a doctor to know that, Reid.”

He laughed quietly at that as he gently ran his hands through Webb’s hair. “I know that. I just thought you were cute when you were more relaxed.”

 _Stop calling me cute. Stop calling me attractive. Don’t do that while we’re in bed together with your hands in my hair._ “You should see me on my days off,” he replied, trying to maintain some sense of professionalism without flirting or brushing off his compliments.

Webb’s head subconsciously tilted into Reid’s hand as the other gently touched his curls. “Is that an invitation?” He asked, raising his brows slightly.

His heart stuttered slightly at the questions, his brain short-circuiting in an attempt to come up with a reasonable response. How the hell am I supposed to answer that? “I-uh, I mean we already see each other outside of work a lot,” he replied, trying to phrase it so that it wouldn’t be a big deal to spend more time together. “Oh,” Reid replied, looking a little hurt, his hand retracting a bit.

Webb realised that the way he answered might make Reid think he was rejecting the offer and reached out to grab his hand, “No- that’s not what I meant, Spence. I meant it wouldn’t be a big deal if we hung out more- not that I didn’t want to spend more time. I’d love to spend some time off with you.”

They both looked at each other awkwardly as they sorta held hands, before Reid sighed with relief and adjusted his grip, lacing their fingers together. Webb’s brows furrowed a bit, and he stared at their hands as his cheeks began to flush a dark pink. They were quiet for a moment before Webb mumbled, “What’s with the handholding, Doc? I mean… I’m not complaining but you’re usually not one for physical contact.”

“We were cuddling last night, so I doubt holding hands could exchange more bacteria and viruses than we already have,” Reid explained with a smile, rubbing his thumb over the back of Webb’s hand.

Webb’s heart was pounding as his eyes flicked back and forth between Reid’s face and his hand holding his own. They were both equally as distracting, with Reid’s smile and puppy eyes making him melt, and Reid’s strong hand and veins were making him feel all sorts of butterflies. “I-uh… I don’t mean to be out of line, but I think you’re very attractive too, Spence.”

“Why would that be out of line?” He asked, his smile widening a bit more and his cheeks tinting pink, “I said it first.”

“Dunno. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t say anything weird,” Webb said with a shrug.

They both laid there for a few more minutes in a slightly awkward silence, although it was considerably more comfortable than before, now that they had both gotten (some) of their thoughts out. Eventually, Webb broke the silence and asked, “Do you want to order breakfast or do you want to go out for it or?”

“I don’t really want to get up just yet…” Reid said with a slight whine, before he added, “But the Bureau doesn’t reimburse the fees for it to be brought up so we should probably-“

“If you don’t want to get up I’ll pay for it,” Webb interrupted, raising his eyebrows, “I don’t mind.”

“But I-“

“My treat,” Webb insisted, gently patting his arm. “What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that, Nathan… really. It’s expensive and-“

“Spence,” he fixed him with a stare, “Let me. It’s my treat. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Reid pouted a bit but nodded, giving in and scooting closer on the bed, cuddling into him a bit. Webb’s lips started to contort into a smile, and he chuckled, “Spencer, please. Don’t pout at me. I’ve got the money.”

“How, exactly? You spend a lot of money on alcohol, roughly every one hundred fifty dollars per month, and considering how much the average utility bills cost in the D.C. area, and how much your rent costs, you shouldn’t be able to afford that much, especially with our income.”

Webb rolled his eyes and huffed, “Spence, my money is my business. I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m just wondering what you did before- you know before joining the Bureau?”

Webb sighed softly and mumbled, “I was a student and a SWAT officer, Reid. You know that.”

Reid didn’t look satisfied and furrowed his brows. “You’re dodging the answer.”

“And yet you keep asking about it,” He retorted, although his words didn’t have any bite to them, “Spence, listen. Garcia knows, and Hotch does too, but if I tell you, you can’t say anything to the others, okay? It’s not bad, it’s just… personal.”

Reid’s brows furrowed even more, if at all possible, and he nodded a bit, looking concerned. “Of course.”

Webb rubbed his temples gently and muttered, “My older brother killed both of my parents when I was in high school. I got a hefty inheritance and life insurance since my brother basically waived his share by killing them.”

Silence. Then a quiet ‘oh’, came from Reid. “I’m sorry for pushing it, then-”

“It’s okay, Reid. Really,” Webb said with a sigh, “I technically could have just lived comfortably without having to go through college or anything for the most of my life, but I figured I’d get bored. So I use that money to pay for any luxuries that I may not be able to afford otherwise. Now let me buy you breakfast.”

The pair settled in, looking over the menu before calling down to the lobby to order their breakfasts. Reid ordered a coffee with waffles, eggs and bacon, and Webb ordered a short stack of pancakes with hash browns and bacon on the side, also with a coffee. Reid seemed embarrassed about pushing the topic and was cuddling up to Webb in what seemed to be an attempt to apologise. Webb let him, basking in the attention, and gently rubbed Reid’s arm to show that he was forgiven.

They sat like that for a while, the awkwardness of the silence slowly fading into a more comfortable one before there was a knock at the door and a call of “Room Service!” Reid started to move to get it, but Webb gently nudged him back onto the bed, “I’ve got it,” he said with a smile, “The whole reason we ordered room service was so that you could stay in bed longer, right?”

Webb got up and got their trays from the worker, tipping the young man who brought their food up generously before closing the door and carrying the food to the bed. Reid took his tray, and Webb got settled in the bed next to him. As they ate, they started some small talk about the case and life in general. They kept it up for a little while before another silence fell, and Reid asked quietly, “You don’t have to tell me, but why did your brother… do that?”

“Honestly, I don’t blame him. I’m not too torn up about the whole situation, really,” Webb admitted as he poked around his pancakes, “Dad was abusive, mostly to him. Mom enabled or downright encouraged it. Ian just snapped at some point. He’s in prison still. I can’t agree with what he did, but it wasn’t exactly a shock.”

Reid’s brows furrowed a bit and reached out to put a hand on Webb’s. “If you ever need to talk about it-“

“Spencer, please. I was fifteen. I’m thirty-seven, now. It was more than a lifetime ago. I’ve had counselling, I’ve talked it out. It’s why I do what I do, but I’m not torn up about it anymore,” He met Reid’s eyes. “I know you want to help, but there’s nothing more that can really be done short of reversing time.”

Reid seemed satisfied, although unhappy with the response. Reid did want to help, and he likely always would. Webb let a moment pass before adding, “You are a genius though… if you ever invent the time machine, please don’t reverse time. I’d never have gotten to meet you if I didn’t join the BAU.”

Reid’s slightly wounded expression almost entirely vanished and was replaced with a wide smile. “I promise I won’t mess with anything that would alter our timeline,” he said with a laugh, and started to put his breakfast tray up, “I am glad that you joined the BAU, Nathan. I really like you.”

Webb finished up his pancakes as his cheeks flushed a little bit, and he replied, “I like you a lot too, Spencer,” as he put up his tray.

Once he had put it up, they both sat awkwardly, the implications of the ‘I like you’s and ‘I think you’re attractive’s hanging in the air. Does he like me in that way? I mean, I know we both care a lot about each other in a friendly and coworker way, but him saying he thought I was attractive and cute makes me think that he likes me more than as a friend or coworker, and he kind of insinuated wanting to go out on a date sometime- why is he leaning closer- Reid was scooting closer and leaning close until their faces were extremely close to each other. Nathan’s eyes flitted between Reid’s eyes and his lips, both of which were extremely distracting. They sat in a sort of stalemate, and eventually, Webb was able to deduce that Reid was letting him make the next move. Fuck it then.

Webb closed the distance, their lips gently pressing against each other. Reid’s hands flew to his sides almost as soon as they touched, and Webb’s hands moved to his side or his hair. Webb ended up moving across the bed to straddle the doctor’s waist, leaning into the kiss as it deepened. The kiss quickly transformed from awkward and hesitant to hungry and needy, with both of them grabbing at the other while their lips moved. They continued for a few moments, their kiss deepening even more, before their room’s phone rang. They both stopped, panting slightly before Webb broke off and reached for the phone. “Webb.” He answered, still sitting in Reid’s lap.

“Yeah, we’re both awake, Hotch,” he replied, gently touching Reid’s side with his free hand.

The doctor looked up and nuzzled into his neck, before starting to leave soft, gentle kisses along his shoulder, collarbone and neck as Webb spoke to Hotch. _Stop it. Stop it, Reid, this isn’t fair._ Webb’s stomach felt like it was full of butterflies, and that every time Reid’s lips connected, they multiplied. “We’ll be there- Oh? You want us to go to the crime scene instead? Didn’t you want me to talk to the galleries- I mean I guess that makes sense. Sure thing.”

Reid gently pulled Webb closer, kissing his skin slowly as he waited for him to get off the phone. “We’ll be there in fifteen, Hotch.”

Webb hung up the phone before playfully glaring at Reid. “Spencer,” he said, tone filled with warning.

“Hm?” He replied, trying to seem innocent as he gently nuzzled into his neck.

“You can’t- listen. I enjoyed that. I really did, but you can’t do that while I’m on the phone with Hotch, Spence. I’d prefer to not get in trouble,” he said, voice showing how clearly torn he was between getting to enjoy the attention and not wanting to be reprimanded by Hotch.

Reid pouted a little bit, but nodded and conceded as he mumbled, “So we have to go to the crime scene?”

“Yeah. We should get dressed.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they find a suspect!

When Reid and Webb arrived on the crime scene, there was already a news van outside, and there were a few reporters hovering outside the crime scene tape. “Looks like they caught wind of this being serial,” Reid said, watching as a second news van turned the corner.

They both sighed before climbing out of the SUV, walking towards the entrance. They had to shove their way past several reporters, repeatedly saying, “No comment,” in response to the reporters bombarding them with questions. They ducked under the tape and made their way into the gallery. Hotch was there with Prentiss and Morgan, and they were currently looking over the crime scene. Webb looked over it briefly before saying, “That’s one hell of a cooling-off period. Two weeks to a day apart? Sounds like he’s devolving.”

“Well, he didn’t steal the piece this time. He destroyed it,” Prentiss said, looking up from the body, “Good morning, Nathan. Spencer.”

“Morning,” The pair said in unison, giving each other a look that was full of tension, before returning their attention to the crime scene.

Reid’s attention became fixed on the body, while Webb stepped to the side and started to look at the sculpture that was shattered on the ground next to the podium. “Does anyone have the biographical information on this piece?”

One of the deputies walked over and handed him a few sheets of paper with all of the information about the piece on it. Webb scanned it briefly before saying, “The only similarity is that it’s a sculpture. This wasn’t made by Zac Robertson or the artists of the other pieces. The fact that he destroyed this piece rather than steal it means that he’s definitely devolving. This seems to be entirely random. I’ll do some research, but I don’t think this piece or the previous piece were selected for any reason.”

Hotch stepped over to Webb and put a hand on his shoulder, “I want you to talk to the gallery workers here, and then head back to the station and talk to everyone else you can get a hold of.”

“Sure thing, Hotch,” Webb replied, nodding, “Anything else you need, boss?”

“Not at the moment. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Webb gave Hotch a little smile before turning and starting out of the building to where some of the other employees were currently answering questions. He went over what they saw and the other basics, like if there was anyone suspicious, any frequent visitors or customers, anyone interested in the piece that was destroyed, and all of the other basics that the detectives had already asked them. He really did hate that he had to go over everything again, especially because the whole ordeal was certainly traumatic to those who knew the deceased.  _ I’m glad I don’t have to speak to the families,  _ he thought, before starting to talk them through the logistics of the gallery itself. What kind of pieces do you normally house? How much do these pieces usually go for? Have you ever housed a piece by Zac Robertson? What kind of person is your typical visitor? Etc.

Eventually, Webb got all of the info that he needed, and he headed back into the building. “I’ve got a rough description of someone they thought looked suspicious and there’s a sketch artist with them now, but I’m honestly not sure that we should release it. This guy doesn’t seem to be the type to stick out or stake out the place, at least, not any more. If he’s truly devolving, he’s probably not staking things out anymore.”

Hotch looked over and nodded, before looking back to the group, “I think we’ve gotten everything we can from the crime scene. Let’s all head back to the station and get to work.”

The team gathered up their things and climbed into their SUVs, heading back to the station, where the rest of the team was waiting. They all broke off once they got there, everyone doing their own thing. Reid was working the geographical profile, Garcia was working the finances of the most recent gallery, and cross-referencing it with that of the previous galleries, as well as finding the real name of the artist Zac Robertson had copied. Hotch and JJ were working on relaying the information to the police officers, and working on their press-release plan, especially since the reporters had started to pick up on the murders being serial, and that the FBI was in town. Rossi and Morgan were going through all of the paperwork they had collected thus far, and Prentiss and Webb were calling and talking with all of the galleries, trying to set up meetings or to get more information.

So far, they’d only been able to get some more information, and they ended up getting just about nothing. That was, until Emily perked up a bit from the phone, raising her hand a bit to get Webb’s attention as she switched the phone to speaker. “You had a man come in belligerent about the piece that was stolen? Did he ever mention why?”

“Well, he said that it was a blatant copy of another artist’s work.”

“And was it?” She asked.

“I wasn’t aware of that when I allowed him to display his work in the gallery, but after this guy and a few others brought it up, I looked it up and it was a copy. Unfortunately, my contract with Mr Robertson states that I must leave it in the gallery for another month or until it sold.”

Webb raised his brows slightly, and wrote down, ‘Ask about what the first man said exactly, if she remembers his name, or if she can come in.’

Prentiss asked her about him and his wording and while they weren’t able to get her to come in that day, she agreed to meet in two days, given that they still needed her help. “Well that was something,” Webb said, looking pleased. 

“Yeah. And we got a name. It’s a good place to start.”

They ended up giving the name to Garcia and found that this guy was one of the original artist’s superfans, and was also an artist himself, who had had some of his own art stolen. “That explains the deep hatred for plagiarism,” Webb murmured, “And he probably kept the piece instead of selling it because it was similar to the original, and he wanted something that reminded him of the artist he looked up to. He might have destroyed it, but if that was his goal, he probably would have done it in the gallery instead.”

“Do we think this is our guy?” Asked Rossi.

“Well, now that I’ve gotten his sealed record unsealed, I can tell you that he has a laundry list of petty offences. A lot of theft, stalking, and a few aggravated assault charges that led to mandated anger management courses, and if I follow this paper trail…” Garcia was quiet for a few moments, before saying, “He ended up being diagnosed with a conduct disorder, and was put on some serious tranquilizer medications to help with the anger. He’s been on and off similar medications since then, it seems.”

“And now?”

“He’s off his meds.”

Everyone seemed to agree that this made him their prime subject at the moment, and Hotch said, “Address?”

“I’ve got a work and home address. I’ve sent them both to all of your phones.”

“Where does he work?” Webb asked, looking at the addresses. 

“He’s a waiter at a restaurant,” Garcia replied.

“Is there a studio address? Maybe a location he sends his art supplies to?”

“Let me get back to you on that-“ Garcia said, tapping away as the rest of the team started to gather their things and put on their bulletproof vests. “Ten points to Nathan Webb, he’s got a studio space downtown. I’ve sent that address as well.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” Morgan said, before hanging up. The team split up into three vehicles, with each of them having a cop car following behind. Prentiss and Webb were in one headed to the studio, Morgan and Rossi in another headed to the restaurant, and Reid and Hotch in the last car heading to his home, with JJ staying behind at the station in case anything happened.

Prentiss and Webb arrived at the studio within ten minutes, and once they got out, readjusted their vests and drew their guns. Webb took point, with Prentiss close behind and two officers following behind them. Once they entered the building, they realised that it was a multi-studio building and that there were a lot of different studios that were available to be rented out. There was also, unfortunately, not a directory or a secretary at the front to direct them. “Well shit,” Muttered Prentiss, looking around.

There were two main hallways that they could see from the entrance, and Webb started looking around for some kind of map of the building. He finally found one with the fire escape routes on it and looked over it. None of the rooms was numbered, but there were only the two main hallways with smaller hallways in the entrance and in the back of the building. There was a fire exit in the back as well. “Well, we know what he looks like. Let’s just go room by room.”

They ended up splitting up into two teams, with Prentiss and one officer heading down the left hallway, and Webb and the other officer heading down the one on the right. The first room for Webb was empty, and the second held an artist, but not the one they were looking for. “Hey, is Phillip Byrd here? We’re looking for him,” Webb asked, to which the man nodded and gestured down the hall.

“He was here when I got here, so he should be in the next room if he hasn’t left,” he responded, looking concerned and a little panicked at the sight of an FBI Agent and a police officer at the door of his art studio.

“Thanks. I’d recommend leaving the premises or locking your door just in case.”

Webb stepped out into the hallway and called in on his walkie talkie, “It’s Webb. I’ve got his room. My hallway, last door. I can hear music but I’m not sure if he’s in there.”

“I’m on my way. Stay put, don’t go in until I get there.”

“Copy that.”

Prentiss and the other officer appeared on the other side of the hallway, effectively blocking off the exits so that if the suspect was here, he couldn’t easily make a run for it. Prentiss gave Webb a nod once they got into position, and Webb knocked on the door, “Phillip Byrd? This is the FBI, we’d like to speak with you. Please open the door,” he called out loudly.

They waited for a moment, listening carefully. Due to the music playing, they weren’t able to hear any movement or response, and Webb hesitated for a few moments before looking back to Prentiss, who gave him a nod. Webb turned his gaze back to the door and tried the knob, and when it didn’t turn, adjusted his stance slightly before kicking the door open. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of torture never hurt, at least, it never hurt when it comes to the plot

Once the door was kicked open, the music inside became a lot louder, and they were able to partially see into the room. From what Webb could see, the suspect wasn’t in their immediate view. He shifted around the doorframe, peeking in as best he could before starting to shift slowly into the room, gun drawn. So far, nothing. There were some art pieces set up in the centre of the room, and Webb could see that one of them was the first stolen piece. He could see a pottery wheel and a few canvasses with partially-done paintings on the wall, and some other supplies that were strewn about, but no sight of the suspect. “We’ve got the first piece that was stolen here. This is our guy,” He muttered quietly to Prentiss before calling out in a louder voice, “Phillip Byrd, this is the FBI.”

Webb stepped in a little more, still making sure to be careful entering the room, as it was likely that if he was in the room, he was hidden behind the door or another object. Webb braced himself as he inched in, before making a bolder step and whipping around, looking behind the door. Fortunately for him, the suspect was there. Unfortunately, he was armed with a blade, and the suspect charged him, slashing at his arm and forcing him to drop the gun. “Prentiss!” Webb shouted before he was tackled, forced into a position where he was facing the others with a knife held tightly to his throat and his back to the unsub.

“Nathan-“

“I’m good, Prentiss,” he hissed, before gasping a bit as he felt another blade poke at his back.

_ Nevermind. Not good. I didn’t peg this guy as a dual-wielder, though…  _ Webb grimaced and shifted his back away from the knife, and leaned his head back away from the knife at his throat, making his position very awkward. He wouldn’t be able to get a vantage point without stabbing himself.  _ This is not ideal. I’m probably the best person to negotiate with him and I’m currently sitting here like an idiot with two knives on me. And he’s got me in a position where Prentiss can’t get a clear shot.  _ “Phillip Byrd, right?”

“Who the fuck else would I be-“ he snarled, pulling Webb closer and keeping him still with his knives. “Tell them to get out of here. All of them.”

“And what? You’ll let me walk out of here? You won’t kill me?” A sharp pain shot through Webb’s side, and he registered in some part of his mind that the blade had broken skin.

“And I won’t torture you before I do,” he growled, and Webb looked at Prentiss with a pleading stare.

_ He has a point. I’d rather die quickly than slowly. But I’ve also got a few things I’d like to say to the team before I die.  _ “Well if you’re going to kill me anyway, can I make a few calls? I’m not exactly your type of victim-“

Webb broke off and gasped, feeling the blade in his side twist slowly. “No? I think you’re doing just fine, fed.”

“Fuck- Listen- I get what you were doing at first, right? You stole the copy. Makes sense and I can’t say I-“ a yelp of pain as the knife jerked in his side, caused by the unsub’s body tensing, “You love the original artist, right? You couldn’t stand to see someone do the same thing and make mon-money off of it, right? I get that. I’m an artist too. I know I don’t look like it-“

He broke off again with another moan of pain, and he started to see spots dance at the corner of his vision. “You’re no artist, fed.”

“He is,” Prentiss spoke up, still pointing her gun at them. “I’m not an artist so I don’t get it but he is. Really. He’s got so much cool work at his desk in the office, and when he’s not working on our cases, he’s working on paintings or sculptures. I-uh, I think he told me once that he used our cases as inspiration.”

Another twist of the knife, this time resulting in a higher-pitched squawk of pain. “Prentiss-“

“Inspiration? Like the shit this guy pulled? Miller- she’s a true artist. She came up with the idea all on her own!” He snarled, clearly getting angrier.

Webb’s vision started to dance a little bit and his mind raced against the clock.  _ I have about two more minutes of this guy stabbing and twisting left before I pass out. I have to do something.  _ He twitched his fingers and toes, making sure he still had full movement.  _ So far so good. No spinal or nerve damage that will cause paralysis.  _ Next, he moved his head a little, shifting a bit to the side, away from the unsub’s face. “No- not like that. I’d never…” he trailed off a bit, “I’d never copy someone else’s work. That’s low. That’s why I expected better from you.”

“Huh?”

_ Thank god he’s dumb. _ Webb thought to himself. “You’re copying.”

“What? Who?”

“Oh, I don’t know, every other guy like you. Every one of you does the same thing once you’re caught. You’re insecure, so you hold someone hostage because you don’t have the balls to kill them right away, and then give up when-“

The unsub snarled and removed the knife from his back, raising the blade up and starting to bring it down as he shouted, “I’m not every other-“

Webb, once the knife was removed from his back, squirmed out of his grasp and grabbed at both of his arms. He was able to make him lose one of the knives before shouting, “Little help here!” And receiving backup from the rest of the team.

The police officers were very focused on the unsub and began disarming and detaining him while Prentiss started to press down on the wound as hard as she could to stop the bleeding, calling for an ambulance on the walkie. “Dumbass,” Webb muttered as the unsub was dragged away.

“You or the unsub?” Prentiss asked, still kneeling next to him and pressing down on the wound.

“Mmm him. Thieves are usually the lowest in IQ when it comes to criminals-“ he let out a hiss as her hand placement shifted a bit, “I’m not the brightest either for going in, but we didn’t really have a choice here. It was a bottlenecked room and we had four bodies. Someone had to go in.”

“I know,” Prentiss said with a sigh, “I just don’t get why you’re always so ready to jump in and go for it.”

Webb would have shrugged, but he didn’t want to move, in case he accidentally jostled Emily’s hands. “Dunno. I just am.”

His eyes closed mostly, and he let out a sigh, “how long does it take on average for the ambulance to arrive?”

“Depends on the city. I’d say about five? Ten minutes?”

“Probably closer to five because I’m a fed and it’s life-threatening,” he mumbled, trying to relax and not fall unconscious at the same time.

“Don’t pass out on me.”

“Prentiss, I’m trying, but I just got stabbed. He twisted the fucking thing too-“ he growled with a bit of a pout.

“Talk to me then, Nathan. Give me something,” she said, looking at him with a concerned expression.

“Like what?” Webb practically whined.

He knew and understood that he needed to stay awake, but god this was exhausting. “How was sharing a room with Reid. Rossi and Morgan have told me all about how he talks in his sleep.”

“He talks?” Webb mumbled, brows furrowing. “No, he just gets snuggly. I mean me too- but he didn’t talk… I think he snores though.”

“He’s snuggly?” Asked Prentiss with a laugh, “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Reid? He doesn’t even like to shake hands.”

Thankfully, for Reid and Webb’s sake, the sound of the ambulance’s siren became audible from inside the building, distracting Webb and Prentiss from their conversation. “Sounds like my ride’s here,” he mumbled, “How long do you think they’re going to keep me from drinking?” 

“Depends on what pain medication they give you, kid. But it doesn’t look bad, honestly. It’s not bleeding like an artery got hit and it doesn’t look like any organs got hit either. You’ll probably just get some blood transfusions and stitches. Maybe they’ll cauterise the wound too.”

Webb scoffed softly before yelping as he felt another pair of hands on him. His eyes shot open, and he saw the paramedics standing around him.  _ How did I not notice them coming in?  _ The paramedics started to press a wad of gauze into the wound, and Webb grit his teeth and let out a quiet hiss to avoid yelling out in pain. Prentiss shifted back to let the paramedics work but still kept an eye on him. “You’re gonna be fine, Nathan.”

“I know,” he muttered, voice tense with pain, “This isn’t my first time being stabbed.” 

Webb was put onto a stretcher and pushed out of the building fairly quickly, and as he was being wheeled to the ambulance he saw that the rest of the team had just arrived. Webb let his eyes close halfway and tried to relax as best he could while being loaded up into the ambulance. He could vaguely make out Hotch and Rossi’s voice as they spoke to Prentiss before he heard Reid’s voice, which was much louder and clearer. “Nathan-What happened?”

Webb forced his eyes open again and saw that Reid was sitting next to him in the ambulance, and had an expression of intense concern on his face. Webb forced out a laugh and said, “I got stabbed, doc. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

Reid’s concern lessened slightly as he realised that Webb was still able to joke, but he still reached over and gently grabbed his hand.  _ Again with the handholding.  _ “How are you feeling?”

“Mmm I’m alright, all things considered,” he hummed, looking at Reid carefully. “Why’re you coming with me?”

“Because if I end up in the same room as the guy who did this to you, I’m going to punch him,” Reid muttered. 

“Oh,” Webb replied, feeling a bit of butterflies in his stomach that weren’t related to the stab wound.

_ Now that should not be hot but it definitely is. I do not condone punching suspects when they’re already detained but… _ “And I want to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re okay. Hotch said I should come with you anyway because we’re rooming together and when you get released from the hospital you’re still going to need some help.”

Webb narrowed his eyes a bit but eventually nodded and mumbled, “Thanks, Spence…”

The rest of the ride was a blur for Nathan, with spots dancing around his vision and the pain making it so that whatever he was able to see wasn’t fully registered. He was able to register Reid still holding his hand, but that was mostly because he would occasionally squeeze his hand to get a response, which was mostly limited to quiet grunts. Occasionally Reid would speak, but Webb wasn’t really able to fully absorb the words he was saying.

Once they arrived at the hospital, Webb was wheeled into the ER and Reid was forced to stand in the waiting room as the doctors took off his shirt and began to hook Webb up to an IV and blood transfusion. The morphine in the IV drip worked quickly, his body starting to relax and his eyes starting to droop. The doctors worked on stopping the bleeding the best they could with gauze and pressure. Within a few minutes, Webb fell asleep, the exhaustion from the day’s work and the drowsiness from the morphine becoming too much. They ended up doing exactly what Prentiss had speculated they would, cauterizing the edges of the wound to stop the bleeding before starting to stitch it up. After the stab wound was cleaned up, they started cleaning up and bandaging the smaller wound on his arm.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospital vibes (and a little bit of hurt/comfort)

When Webb woke up, the first person he saw was Reid. Reid was sitting by his bed and looked to be asleep, with his head leaning against one of his hands and his arm propped up on the side of the bed. He smiled a little bit before letting his eyes wander around the room. At the entrance of the room, Rossi was standing and talking to a doctor, and JJ was sitting next to him on the other side of the bed. She noticed that he moved his head, and looked up, meeting his gaze. “Hey, kid. How’re you feeling?” She asked with a smile.

Webb shrugged a little bit and mumbled, “Drowsy. Forgot how tired morphine makes you.”

JJ smiled a little bit and murmured, “It’s better than being in pain, right?”

“I guess,” he replied, looking down at his chest and furrowing his brow as he noticed that he was wearing a paper hospital shirt before looking over at Reid, who had started to stir a little bit. “Morning Doc. You look more tired than I am.”

Reid blinked slowly, before mumbling, “Is it morning?”

“No, Spence,” JJ interrupted, gently nudging Webb’s side, “He wouldn’t know, anyway. He’s been knocked out longer then you have.”

Webb pouted a little bit and muttered, “Buzzkill.”

Reid smiled a bit and murmured, “How are you feeling, Nathan?”

“Good, all things considered,” He replied, smiling back at him, before returning his gaze to JJ. “What time is it actually?”

“It’s ten-thirty.”

Webb’s brows furrowed and he nodded with a sigh. “Well, that’s not too bad, I suppose. Could’ve been worse.”

JJ smiled a bit and nodded, “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m gonna let the rest of the team know, okay?”

“Thanks, J,” He said with a chuckle, “See if you can get me out of here, too. I’d rather be in a proper bed.”

She nodded and gently patted his thigh as she stood before stepping out of the room and interrupting Rossi and the Doctor, starting to talk to them. Once JJ was out of the room, Reid gently grabbed his hand and looked at him with his usual puppy-eyes. “What happened in there? I know Emily said it was a bottleneck situation and that someone had to go in but…”

“Spence- I went in, he was behind the door. There wasn’t much we could have done. I mean, I could have shot him but I didn’t think he was going to rush me like that. Thieves are generally cowards.”

Reid’s brows furrowed a little bit, but he nodded in understanding. They both understood the job and what it was like, and unfortunately for them, they got hurt sometimes. “You shouldn’t have been so close to the door, though. You should have been more careful. You could have died or something-”

“I’m fine, doc. He didn’t even hit an artery or anything important.”

He sighed a bit and relaxed a little, before mumbling, “But you’re going to have to be careful for a few days. No working in the field, less driving, no heavy lifting.”

“Are you offering to do it for me?” Webb asked with a playful smile, imagining Reid carrying his bags and babying him.

It wasn’t his ideal, since he liked being independent a great deal, but he didn’t hate the idea either. Reid was already super sweet to him, especially since they carpooled to work, but the idea of Reid, a pipe cleaner with eyes as Rossi would say, doing his heavy lifting was very funny to him. “Yes,” Reid said seriously, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Webb’s smile widened, and he chuckled, “You don’t have to do all of that, Spence. You can make Morgan do the heavy lifting.”

Reid looked a little bit embarrassed but nodded in agreement. He glanced around the room for a few moments before gently kissing Webb’s temple and murmuring, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Webb’s cheeks flushed red at the affection and he muttered, “Don’t get all soft on me, doc. I’m not going anywhere any time soon. It’ll take more than one overzealous unsub with a knife to kill me.”

Reid smiled a bit at that and mumbled, “I know… but you could have been seriously hurt.”  
  


“Spencer, I’m a former SWAT officer. I can take care of myself,” He assured, gently squeezing the doctor’s hand, “Anyway, if you start fussing over me we’re going to get in trouble with Hotch or Strauss.”

Reid pouted and mumbled, “I’m not fussing, Nathan.”

“You’re fussing,” He argued, glancing around to make sure no one was looking before leaning up and pecking his lips, “Can you do me a favour?”

Reid froze a little bit at the kiss before nodding eagerly, “Anything.”

“Get me another shirt before they let me out of here? I’d rather not wear one with a giant knife-hole in it that’s covered in blood,” He asked with a slight laugh.

Reid nodded and murmured, “Yeah. You want one of your shirts from your go-bag or?”

Webb shrugged, “Whatever. I’m not picky. You don’t have to drive back to the hotel for it.”

Reid smiled a bit and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”  
  


He stood up, grabbing his jacket from the chair and starting towards the door as the doctor stepped in. “How are you feeling, Agent Webb?”

“I’m alright, doctor. Everyone keeps asking me how I’m doing, though,” he said, a bit of sass seeping into his tone.

“Well, that’s to be expected considering you almost bled out.”

Webb’s expression turned sheepish, and he muttered, “I guess you’re right. When can I leave?”

“Well, after we go over your discharge plan, you’ll be free to go,” the doctor said, holding up his clipboard.

The pair went over everything that he needed to do to make his recovery as quick as possible, which entailed no heavy lifting, no twisting, no strenuous activity of any kind until the stitches healed. Tylenol and ibuprofen to manage the pain, and no drinking while he was still taking it. He would also have to change the bandage every day (or if the bandage got wet or dirty), and clean the wound. “If you follow all of these steps and it doesn’t get infected, you should be ready to return to the field in about a week. If you get a fever, it starts to smell, turn yellow or green, or if the pain gets worse, you need to go to the doctor and get put on antibiotics so that it doesn’t turn into sepsis. Got it?”

Webb nodded and sighed, “Am I cleared to fly?”

“Yes. The air pressure may cause some pain, but it won’t cause any additional harm. I’d also recommend crutches or a wheelchair for the first few days, just to keep you stable and to keep the stitches from tearing.”

  
Webb’s brows furrowed, and he grumbled, “Is that really necessary?”

“Not necessary, but if your stitches aren’t disturbed in any way, you could probably cut down on your heal time by a few days,” The doctor assured, “And it could help prevent any issues that could arise from any early tears or complications.”

Webb groaned softly in annoyance, “If you say so.”

The doctor gave him a nod and said, “I’ll go start on your discharge papers and - would you prefer a wheelchair or crutches?”

“Crutches please.”

The doctor stepped out of the room, and JJ and Rossi stepped inside. “Hey Rossi,” Webb greeted, before nodding at JJ. “I’m almost out of here.”

“Good,” said Rossi, “Hotch got the go-ahead from the doctor to tear you a new one when you are discharged.”

“What? What for?” Webb asked incredulously.

“You went into a room on your own,” he said with a shrug.

Webb put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. “I’m going to send out a mass text, I swear to god. It was a bottleneck. Only one person could fit through the doorway at a time, and I wasn’t about to send someone else in. I’m fine anyway!”

“We know that, Nathan,” JJ soothed, “But Hotch is going to have to explain why the BAU used FBI funding for a hospital visit on a case, and you’re going to have to do a write up for it.”

“If it’s really that big of a deal, I’ll just pay for it myself,” Webb grouched. “It’s not like I don’t have insurance.”

“Nathan just let him be a boss. He doesn’t want to do it any more than you want to endure it,” JJ said with a pat on his back. “Besides, he may skip the yelling if you explain the situation well enough. Prentiss already vouched for you.”

Webb nodded, and the three made idle conversation for a few more minutes before Reid returned to the room, with a sweatshirt in his hands. Webb furrowed his brows, as he could tell that it wasn’t his, and asked, “Did you buy me a hoodie?”

“Mmhm!” Reid said, sounding a little excited.

Webb gave him a questioning look before ultimately deciding that he didn’t mind as long as it was comfortable, and started to try and take off the paper shirt. It took a bit, and some help from JJ, but he eventually managed to get the shirt off. Once it was off, Reid’s cheeks started to slowly turn pink, and he looked away a bit as he held out the sweatshirt. Webb took it and unfolded it, before a wide smile spread across his face. “You got me an art museum sweatshirt? You’re such a dork, Reid. Thank you.”

Reid glanced back for a moment, seeming pleased with the reaction to his gift. Webb started to pull it on, wincing a bit as he held his arms up over his head, the movement tugging slightly at the stitches. Not nearly enough to tear them, but enough to make him aware of their presence. Once he got dressed, the doctor found his way back into the room and after Webb signed his discharge papers, handed him a set of crutches. It took a bit for Webb to get off of the bed, as moving around was significantly more painful than just sitting there, but once he was standing he started to hobble out of the room. Rossi and JJ led the way, while Reid stayed back, helping Webb navigate with the crutches. Once they got down to the lobby, Webb finally spotted the rest of the team. Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch were sitting down, each with a cup of coffee. “It’s too late to be drinking that stuff!” Webb called with a smirk.

“Well look who it is,” Morgan said as he looked up at the group, “Deadman walking. I could have sworn they were going to keep you for the night.”

“Not with Reid bugging the doctor about what kind of care he needed. Should’ve seen him when the doc suggested starting on intravenous antibiotics,” Rossi said with a chuckle.

“If you take antibiotics before you have an infection, it will cause infections to be worse in the long term! Everyone knows that!” Reid defended, pointing a bit.

“You’re right, but I think that’s exactly why the doctor knew that Webb would do just fine with you acting as a nurse for a few days,” JJ teased.

“I don’t need Reid to be my nurse,” Webb grouched, gently hitting him with his crutch.

“Nathan, I know that you’re injured but I expect you to have a detailed written report of what happened by the time we get back to the BAU. Understood?” Hotch said sternly.

Webb baulked, “It's a five-hour flight! That’s not enough time to-“

“We’re leaving tomorrow at noon. You’ll have time to rest and to _think_ about what you’re going to put in the report, got it?” Hotch raised his eyebrow slightly, fixing him with a stern gaze.

“Yes sir,” Webb sighed, keeping his gaze down. 

“You too, Prentiss,” Hotch said, glancing at her, “You were with him, and you could have stopped him or handled this differently.”

Prentiss winced at the scolding, and Webb muttered, “She’s not my babysitter.”

“Good. Then you can put that in your report,” Hotch replied, raising his eyebrows at him.

When Webb didn’t reply, Hotch added, “I’m glad that you’re okay, Nathan. Now everyone go back to your rooms and get some rest. Our flight leaves at noon.”

Everyone climbed into the SUVs, with Morgan and Reid helping Webb into the car, and started back to the hotel.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love me some domesticity. ⚠️ Very vague Mention of Abuse ⚠️

The team arrived back at the hotel, and Webb and Reid made their way up the elevator and to their room. Once they got into the room, Reid opened the door for him before starting to fuss. “Please lay down.”

“Reid, I literally just walked in the room, give me a damn minute-” Webb complained, although he was already hobbling towards the bed.

“Be careful-” Reid said, flitting about and moving the pillows and blankets around to make a makeshift nest before helping him down onto the bed.

Webb groaned as he settled into the bed, and scoffed, “Spencer, please. Don’t mother-hen me. It’s bad enough that I’m not allowed in the field for a week.”

Reid pouted, “You need to be careful though. It could be longer than a week if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Webb scoffed, “I know that, Reid. But I’ll go insane if you keep this up.”

“Then what can I do?” he asked, starting to get changed into his pyjamas.

He shrugged and tried to settle into the bed. “Get me a notebook so I can start writing my report.”

Reid frowned, “But you’re still a little out of it on the opiates… You probably shouldn’t be writing it out until it leaves your system.”

“Then you can proofread it for me when I’m done!” Webb argued, pouting. “C’mon Reid, I’m already in trouble. I can’t afford to turn this write-up in late. And I slept for what, six? Seven hours?”

Reid sighed and murmured, “Fine,” before picking up a notepad and handing it over to him.

As Webb started to write his report, Reid climbed into the bed next to him and started to nuzzle up against him, his chin resting on Webb’s shoulder. _Well, Reid was right about it being hard to write this while still on morphine._ Webb’s brows furrowed as he did his best to focus, but the words seemed to blur, making it hard to reread what he had written, or write anything else down. His attention was further drawn away from the papers when Reid started to gently kiss at his jaw and neck. “Do you even want me to try to write this, Spencer?” he asked, sighing softly.

“Not really, no,” He said, nuzzling into him a little more, “I want you to rest.”

“Kissing my neck isn’t making me want to rest, doc,” Webb pointed out with a quiet huff, putting down the notepad on the bedside table.

Reid was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “I guess not,” and scooting up a little bit, nipping at Webb’s earlobe.

The sensation made his stomach flutter, and he let out a quiet groan. “Spencer, this isn’t fair. I’m not allowed to move around.”

Reid smiled and chuckled softly, “I know, Nathan. I’m sorry. When you’re better, I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

Webb seemed sceptical but didn’t argue. “Get some rest, Nathan. I can look over what you’ve written in the meantime, and I’ll wake you up in three hours and make sure you take something for the pain before it gets out of hand.”

Webb sighed a bit and muttered, “I’m only doing this for you because I like you, okay? I’m not going to be this well-behaved on the flight back.”

Reid raised his eyebrow as the other male started to settle into the bed, and said lowly, “Don’t give me any ideas,” before picking up the document from the bedside table and starting to look over it.

Webb chuckled at his tone, not fully taking it seriously, and shifted so that he was mostly laying down, and shifted onto his side that wasn’t injured, wrapping his arms around Reid as he worked. Webb was able to fall asleep pretty quickly since the morphine was still lingering in his system and with the added bonus of Reid’s rhythmic breathing and body heat. When Webb initially fell asleep, Reid took a moment to appreciate how peaceful the other looked. He’d gotten to appreciate how peaceful he looked fake-sleeping in the morning, and sleeping in the hospital was definitely not peaceful, but like this? Webb’s resting face almost had a smile, in comparison to his usual resting scowl. His shoulders were lax, instead of ridiculously tense, and with the way the other was curled around him, Reid felt incredibly blessed. 

When Webb woke up, Reid was gently nudging him awake. “C’mon Nathan. You’ve gotta take your medication.”

  
Webb’s immediate response was to let out a whine of protest, “Spencer-”   
  


“Trust me, you’re going to hate me more if you don’t take it. It’s going to start to really hurt when it fully wears off. Please, just sit up. I brought you some water, too.”

Webb squinted at him and muttered, “Fine,” before starting to move to sit up more.

He stopped himself quickly, and hissed, “You know what, you should’ve probably woken me up a bit earlier.”

His stab wound was throbbing with pain, and the slash wound on his arm was hurting a considerable amount as well. Reid furrowed his brow a bit and started to gently pull him into a seated position. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he groaned, “But the morphine definitely wore off.”

Reid nodded a bit and then held up the pills to him as well as a glass of water. Webb took them and sipped the glass of water, grumbling quietly to himself. Reid gently rubbed his shoulders and murmured, “Do you need anything else?”

Webb kept drinking the water and shook his head slightly. “No,” He said after he finished drinking, and murmured, “I’ll be okay, Spence. I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again until the pain meds kick in, though.”

He nodded and smiled a bit, before handing him the notepad with the write-up on it. “Here you go.”

Webb frowned as he took it, looking over it briefly before saying, “Did you finish the report for me?”

“Mmhm,” Reid said with a smile, “I hope you don’t mind. I already heard you and Prentiss’ story, anyway. If you want to add some details you can, but I mimicked your handwriting and your writing style, so you could just turn this in as it is, if you wanted.”

Webb’s expression looked conflicted for a moment before settling on one that was pleased, and chuckled, “I’d be a little creeped out that you’re able to do that if I didn’t know that you were a genius with an eidetic memory… Well, actually it’s still a little creepy, but I appreciate it. Thank you, Reid.”

Reid smiled and laughed, sitting down next to him with a grin. “It’s not like I’ve been working with you for several months and have an idea of how you write and of your personality, making it easy to imitate those things.”

Webb rolled his eyes and set the papers down on the bedside table. “If this is what you babying me looks like, I think I could get used to it,” he teased, before gently grabbing the collar of Reid’s shirt and pulling him in for a gentle kiss.

He returned the kiss eagerly, and shifted a bit closer, before he said, “You owe me now, though.”

Webb raises his brows slightly and murmured, “And? I don’t mind.”

“You haven’t heard what I want in return, though,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“As long as it doesn’t physically hurt me,” _well, in a not-fun way, of course,_ “I don’t care. And it has to be within my abilities,” Webb said with a grin.

Reid looked amused and chuckled, “Well I’ll just have to wait to redeem my favour, then.”

Webb glanced over at him with a laugh and said, “By the time I’m mobile enough for you to redeem your favour, I’m going to owe you way more than one.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.”

Reid smiled at that and gently kissed his forehead, “Good to hear.”

They ended up snuggling up together and Reid turned on the TV, giving them something to look at and focus on. Webb ended up falling asleep again after a good while, but this time fell asleep with his face pressed against Reid’s chest. Reid put his arm around Webb’s shoulders, gently holding him in place and kissing his forehead before falling asleep himself. 

They ended up sleeping through the night peacefully, only waking up two times every three hours to have Webb take his pain medication before they woke up for the day. Reid woke up first, and once he saw the time, he started to gently nudge Webb awake. “Nathan, it’s time to wake up. We need to get you some breakfast, sweetheart.”

Webb had woken up enough only to hear ‘breakfast’ and ‘sweetheart’. Webb perked up a little bit, and mumbled, “Breakfast?”

He blinked his eyes open slowly, and Reid chuckled, “Are you hungry? Do you want room service?”

Webb shook his head and muttered, “We can head down to the lobby,” before starting to force himself up. His wound still hurt considerably, the over-the-counter pain medication honestly not doing much for his pain, but he had started to get used to it and was able to fight through it to sit himself up. “Did you call me sweetheart?”

“I did. Is that okay?” Reid asked, looking at him with a concerned look, starting to get up from the bed.

“Mmm, I don’t mind it. You just didn’t strike me as the pet-name type,” Webb said with a chuckle, “I figured I’d be the one to be using them.”

Reid laughed back and murmured, “Why don’t I strike you as the type to use pet names?”

Reid started to get dressed, and Webb sighed, “I dunno. You just don’t. You’re more outwardly soft-spoken. I know that you’re more outspoken with friends, but I’ve never seen you in a relationship, so I assumed you’d be more soft-spoken.”

They both seemed to pause at the implication, and Reid asked quietly, “Is this considered a relationship?”

Webb shrugged, not willing to get into it right now, and gestured towards his crutches, “We can talk about it when I’m not healing from a stab wound. Now gimme my crutches.”

“Nathan-“

“I’m not saying no, Spencer,” Webb interrupted, fixing him with a stern look, “It’s complicated, especially with our job, and you know that. There is nothing more in the world that I would love-“ he stopped himself and sighed, “Not today, Spence.”

The younger male seemed to understand and nodded in agreement. “We-uh- I have to clean your wound first. Twice a day, remember?”

Webb sighed and muttered, “Fucking hell. Yeah, I remember. Help me take this off, then. It hurt a little when I was getting dressed when I was still on morphine, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch now.”

The pair worked together to take off his shirt and the bandage wrapping around his torso before Reid started on the wound. Webb had to lay on his stomach while Reid worked as quickly and gently as he could. Webb couldn’t think of a time where he’d been more grateful for Reid’s medical knowledge. True, he wasn’t an actual doctor, but his personal interest and research was certainly coming in handy here. “The stitches already look like they’re healing alright,” Reid assured as he gently cleaned around them, Webb hissing softly in pain as the hydrogen peroxide came in contact with the wound.

After the pain subsided, Webb managed to say, “As long as you’re keeping an eye on it, I should be fine, yeah?”

“And as long as you don’t overexert yourself,” Reid added sternly.

Webb let out a huff of annoyance but didn’t argue since he knew Reid was right. The younger male continued to look over his injury, gently patting away the excess hydrogen peroxide before starting to tape the small bandage over the stitches. After he had attached it, he lingered for a moment, his eyes raking over Webb’s back and admiring him for a moment. He also spotted several injuries. The more recent and defined ones he saw looked mostly like cuts or stabs, and he saw two that were clearly bullet wounds, but there were also several injuries, which looked to be much older, that he couldn’t place. Eventually, Reid recalled what Webb had said about his family the day before. Very rarely did a child kill their parents without reason… especially if they left their younger sibling alive.

Webb eventually realised that Reid had stopped fixing the bandage, although it took a little while as he was still a tad drowsy and mumbled, “You done staring at me, doc?”

Reid scrambled to come up with a non-staring reason for not working on the bandage and babbled, “I was just letting you gather yourself- you’re gonna have to sit up for me to wrap the rest of the bandages around you.”

Webb rolled his eyes, and started to adjust himself, starting to push himself up off of the bed, while Reid held the primary bandage in place. Once Webb was upright, Reid finished securing the bandage in place and wrapped gauze around his middle to keep it there. Reid looked Webb over carefully and murmured, “You feeling alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“The hydrogen peroxide hurt like a bitch, but I’m alright,” he said as they started to put on his shirt for the day.

_I’m glad that he doesn’t want to hurt me, but it’s not like any of this is going to hurt more than when I actually got stabbed,_ Webb thought, wincing a bit as he had to extend his arms over his head. They got his shirt on and Reid looked at him carefully as he asked, “What pants?”

Webb hesitated before saying, “I’ve got one pair of jeans that are really stretchy in my go-bag. Those.”

He started to take off his own pants, but it was fairly awkward since he couldn’t really stand up on his own. He managed, but by the time he’d gotten them off, Reid was standing there with a patient expression on his face, holding up the pair of jeans. “Don’t look at me like that, Reid,” he muttered, “Makes me feel useless.”

“Sorry-“ Reid apologised immediately, averting his gaze a bit and holding out the pants to him.

Webb took them and started to put them on, but ultimately got stuck around his waist. Webb glared at his legs for a moment before starting to stand up halfway, balancing himself on the hotel wall as he pulled them up the rest of the way. _I hate everything about this. If I have to deal with this for more than one day I’m going to kill someone._

Reid was doing his best to avert his gaze while still keeping an eye on him so that he didn’t hurt himself, and once Webb had finished getting dressed, he handed him his crutches. “Need help with your shoes?”

“Nah I’m alright,” Webb muttered, putting on his sneakers himself.

Since he hadn’t untied them when he took them off, he just forced his feet back into them so he didn’t have to tie them again, and settled his palms on the crutches with a sigh. “Let's go.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly plot progression in this one :)

The pair went down to the lobby and took their time eating breakfast. At some point, Morgan, Rossi and JJ made their way down as well, joining them at the table and eating with them. The conversation flowed easily, with only a few awkward pauses. Webb was thoroughly thankful for his training as a profiler at this moment, since that meant he was able to keep his face straight when Reid put his hand on his thigh and was able to carry on the conversation as normal whenever Reid gently squeezed. It wasn’t meant to be an entirely romantic gesture, but rather a protective one, and regardless, it made Webb’s heart flutter. Unfortunately, no matter how much training he got would be able to keep his face from burning. His darker complexion hid it for a while, but it eventually shone through, and Morgan asked, “You alright, Nathan? You’re looking a little red.”

Webb had to think quickly to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t draw too much concern. “Yeah- I’m good. I think I just ate too much too fast. I didn’t really have dinner last night,” he offered, hoping that would do the trick.

Morgan and JJ seemed satisfied, and Reid wasn’t concerned for obvious reasons, but Rossi looked a little suspicious. Webb’s heart dropped when he noticed that Rossi’s gaze was flicking back and forth between Reid and himself. God damnit. Count on the guy with a shit ton of ex-wives to notice… well, he was the one who caused enough problems that they had to make the fraternisation rules in the first place anyway, right? God, I hope he doesn’t say anything. They made eye contact briefly, and Rossi raised an eyebrow at him. Webb looked away immediately and gently nudged Reid’s hand away from his thigh under the table, trying to remain innocuous.

Reid glanced at him and furrowed his brows a bit, looking concerned. Webb responded by looking at him pointedly and then glancing at Rossi. Thankfully, Reid got the message. Unfortunately, Rossi also got the message and smirked a bit at the pair. He didn’t say anything, thank god, but he definitely knew that something was up. Fucking profilers. Great for what we do, shitty for workplace decency.

The rest of the meal went without incident, the five of them chatting easily until everyone was done with their food. They all paid and headed back up to their rooms to gather their things before they had to leave. Once Webb and Reid got to their room, Reid returned to his fussy mother-hen persona, refusing to let Webb do anything himself, including carrying his own bag. It was kinda funny, Webb thought, watching Reid juggle their bags. “Make Morgan carry it once we get downstairs,” he suggested with a laugh when the doctor dropped one of the bags again.

“I’m going to-“ he grumbled, hoisting it back up over his shoulder.

Once Reid got everything balanced, he added, “I’m sorry about Rossi. I should’ve been more careful that no one noticed-“

Webb shrugged a bit. “I’m not happy that he knows that something’s up, but I’d prefer him than anyone else on the team. Morgan would tell Garcia and visa versa. JJ would probably tell Hotch or Prentiss, and Prentiss would tell JJ or Hotch. Hotch would probably get us in trouble. Rossi probably won’t say anything, at least, as long as it’s not an issue.”

Reid seemed to be in agreement and leaned over to kiss Webb’s temple before saying, “Ready to head down?”

Webb turned his head and kissed his cheek in return before nodding. “Yeah. I’m ready to take a nap on the plane back.”

“You should take some more medication as soon as we get on the plane then, so you don’t wake up in pain?” Reid suggested, smiling a bit and subconsciously raising his hand to touch his cheek where he was kissed.

Webb felt his stomach flutter as Reid did this and nodded, “Sure thing, Doc. Whatever you think is best.”

They made their way down, only having to make a few stops when one of the bags fell and joined Morgan, Hotch and Prentiss in the lobby. Apparently JJ and Rossi had to grab a few things, still. Reid almost immediately shoved one of Webb’s bags into Morgan’s arms and said, “Here- I can't carry everything.”

Morgan looked offended, and Webb grinned as he scoffed, “And why exactly do I have to carry this?”

“Because you’re a wonderful teammate, Derek. And because I’m not allowed to do any heavy lifting or twisting until my stickers are healed,” Webb said with a laugh.

Morgan playfully scowled before starting to shoulder the bag. Once he’d adjusted his grasp he could carry them all effortlessly. Both Reid and Morgan looked pleased with themselves, and Webb was just happy he didn’t have to carry anything while on crutches. Hotch seemed amused, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever-so-slightly. “How’s your write up coming along, Webb?”

“It’s uh- it’s alright,” Webb said, glancing at Reid. “Doc proofread it for me since I was out of it when I wrote it but I think I’m done.”

Hotch seemed satisfied, and Prentiss spoke up, “I’m pretty much done with mine, too.”

Webb smiled at Prentiss and chuckled, “I bet yours is better than mine,” before shifting his weight a bit, “Where are Rossi and JJ?”

“They should be down soon,” Morgan said with a shrug.

They stood and chatted for a while, waiting for the rest of the team. Rossi came down first, with JJ following a few minutes after. “I’m sorry about that, guys. Will’s having some trouble with Henry,” she explained, to which everyone assured her that it was no problem.

The team made their way to the SUVs and climbed in. Webb, once again, needed help getting in. Prentiss helped him in for the most part, with Reid holding his crutches. They all made their way to the airport, and once they were there got into the jet with minimal fuss. Everyone got settled, and Webb rummaged in his bag for his report and some painkillers. He handed off his report to Hotch and took the medication before settling down into a nap for the majority of the flight.

…………………………………………….

Once the team got back to Quantico, Hotch called Webb into his office. Luckily, Webb could tell, judging by his tone, that he wasn’t in any trouble. “What’s up, Hotch?”

“I want you to take a few days off to recover. You’ll be on call for consulting, but judging by how hard you slept on the plane, you need to go home and sleep,” Hotch said, his voice filled with concern.

“I can come in, it’s really no big deal-“

“I said I want you to stay home,” he reiterated, raising a brow. “But what I wanted to ask you was, do you want Reid to be given those days off as well? Your injury is in a hard-to-reach place and you aren’t supposed to twist according to your discharge papers.”

Webb’s eyebrow twitched involuntarily and he was quiet for a moment. “No- I don’t… I mean, the kid deserves some days off and if he wants to, sure, but you know how much he likes keeping himself busy.”

“I think if he decides to take this time off he’ll be able to find some way to occupy his time,” Hotch said with an ever-so-slight smile.

“Are you telling me that you want him to babysit me?” Webb asked with a scowl.

“I’m telling you that you may need help for the next few days.”

Webb’s scowl persisted for a few moments before the thought of having time alone with Reid became too tempting. “Fine. If you’re the one who’s telling him,” he said with a sigh, “You promise you’ll call if you need me?”

Hotch gave him a nod and waved him off before calling Reid in, presumably giving him the talk. Webb sat at his desk, sighing a bit and wondering how he was going to get home. He’d driven his car here, but he wasn’t supposed to move or twist, both of which were necessary to drive. He supposed that Reid could drive him, but then Reid would have his car, and the doctor didn’t have a parking permit for his car at his apartment. Once Reid got finished talking to Hotch, he came down from his office and started gathering his things. “Nathan, did you tell Hotch to give me some days off?”

“He told me he wanted to give you some days off,” He replied, looking up from his desk and raising his brows, “He seemed very concerned with my ability to clean my bandages on my own.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” Reid said with a quiet laugh, “You alright with me babysitting you for a few days?”

“Considering Hotch has essentially ordered me to let you do just that, I’ll allow it,” He mumbled, before starting to stand up, “How are we gonna do this? I can’t exactly drive home, and we took my car.”

Reid’s brows furrowed before he said, “What if I stayed with you? At least, until you were feeling better? I mean, I could run up to my apartment and pack a bag quickly before we head to yours.”

“Don’t you want to go home?” Webb asked with a concerned expression.

“I don’t really care,” Reid said with a smile, “I mean, I’m going to have to help you out a lot more than just changing your bandages, right?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I should. The doctor said that you’d likely need help with any things that require large amounts of movement, and that means helping you with all sorts of things. And as a doctor myself, my opinion is the same. I’d rather spend a lot of time with you for a few days and have you heal up quickly than not spend time with you and then have you not healed by the time our days off are over,” Reid interrupted, gently nudging him. “You ready to go?”

“I guess.”

The pair made their way towards the elevator. When they got there, they saw that Rossi was waiting for the elevator as well, and settled into an awkward silence as they joined him. The elevator dinged, and the three got inside after the doors opened, with a little bit of hassle thanks to the crutches. Once the doors closed behind them, Rossi cleared his throat and said, “I heard you both got a few days off. It’s a shame that Nathan’s not allowed to move.”

Webb coughed in surprise at the insinuation, practically choking on air, while Reid stiffened and looked away, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I mean- if you were able to move it’d practically be a couple’s vacation. Or a honeymoon.”

“I will slash your tires, Rossi,” Webb threatened, while Reid’s face became increasingly red.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh, “I’m not going to tell Hotch unless it becomes an issue. But you two were already so close that I don’t think it’ll matter.”

Reid let out a slight sigh of relief before mumbling, “Thank you,” and looking to Webb to make sure he was okay.

Webb looked a little mortified but otherwise okay. He was especially reassured by Rossi stating what he had previously assumed. Having it confirmed out loud was especially helpful. When the elevator opened, Rossi was the first to walk out, and Webb and Reid followed him out. They made their way out to Webb’s car, and once they got there, Webb tossed his keys over to Reid, “Don’t wreck my car or anything, Doc.”

“I’m not going to-” he started, before stopping himself with a huff, “I’m not a bad driver.”

“Mmhm,” Webb replied, not convinced, as he started to climb into the car.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Includes art of my OC at the beginning, since I realised that I only vaguely describe him lmao  
> But also this is mostly plot-fill and fluff/domesticity

Art of my OC: [Here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CDyh0UCJo2Q/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) (Please consider dropping a like and/or follow if you enjoy my artwork)  
  
  
  
  
  


The pair eventually arrived at Webb’s apartment, and his stomach was churning with anxious energy. He’d never had any of the team members over in his apartment, and he honestly was nervous about it. He didn’t exactly live in the tidiest of condition, especially since his apartment was relatively small. He didn’t mind the lack of space since he lived alone and spent most of his time out or at work anyway. But after seeing Reid’s apartment, he became a little intimidated. As they got to the door, Reid handed over Webb’s keys and smiled a bit, “I’m glad I get to spend some proper alone time with you.”  
  


Webb fumbled with the keys and muttered, “Is it really proper? It’s not like I'm in the physical condition to actually do anything besides sit around.”

He finally managed to get the keys in the door and pushed it open, revealing a small studio apartment. The floor plan was L-shaped, so his bed wasn’t visible, but from the door, the pair could see the absolute wreckage that was Webb’s couch and coffee table. Files and loose papers were strewn about, and labelled boxes were stacked up all around the area. Webb hobbled inside and leaned his crutches against the counter in his kitchen before using the wall to support himself as he made his way through the mess. As Reid followed him in, closing the door behind him, he was able to see that the kitchen was much less messy, but that was likely due to how empty it was. There didn’t seem to be any food. He assumed the pantry was full of microwaveable and instant meals, however. The counter itself had a few files on it as well, but it was kept tidier. “You sure have a lot of… I don’t even know what these are-“ Reid started, looking around a bit.

“Case files. I request cold cases I find interesting in my spare time, see what I can do,” he muttered, finally making it to the only cleared seat on the couch, and plopping down.

As Webb started to clear off the rest of the seats for Reid, the doctor noticed that the walls were filled with art. Large and small pieces, and a few small sculptures on the shelves. The shelves themselves were filled with books about art and psychology, which made perfect sense. He also noticed that there was only one family photo in the whole apartment, and upon further inspection, that none of the other people in the photo looked anything like who he assumed was Webb. He hesitated a bit before asking, “Which one’s you?” In an attempt to avoid directly asking the looming question.

“Spencer, do I look like I’ve ever been pale in any way?” Webb asked without looking up, knowing exactly which photo he was asking about. “That’s me and Detective LaMontagne and his family. He helped me get emancipated when I was 16.”

Reid nodded a bit, mouthing the name to himself a few times before asking, “William LaMontagne?”

“Mmhm. He was a good man,” Webb said, finally clearing a spot.

“I- they say it’s a small world, but… if we’re talking about the same William LaMontagne, I think JJ is married to his son. William LaMontagne Jr,” Reid said with a little bit of a laugh, “And you used to live in Louisiana, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Webb said with a little laugh, “The other kid in the picture is Will Jr. I knew him pretty well. He was my only friend as I finished up high school.”

Reid looked at him with a chuckle, “Maybe we should have dinner with JJ and Will sometime, so you two can reconnect.”

“Are you suggesting a double date?” Webb asked with a smile, patting the seat next to him. “Sit with me, doc.”

“Ah- well, we’d have to tell them we were dating for it to be a double date,” he started, sitting down in the open seat. “But I think that JJ would be able to keep things quiet if we asked her to. Especially if it meant we got to go on a double date. I think JJ worries about Will not having enough friends outside of the force.”

“Honestly, I think all of us have that issue. None of us have a lot of time outside of work,” Webb said with a chuckle, before leaning over and nuzzling into Reid’s neck. “Thank you for staying with me, Spence.”

“I don’t think we had much of a choice, but I’m glad I get to take care of you. I promise to do my best to let you do your own thing,” Reid put an arm around Webb’s shoulder and gently kissed the top of his head. “What do you normally do in your spare time?

“Mmh. Sleep, watch TV, sometimes read,” Webb said with a low chuckle, “That and look through all these and see if I can make anything of them.”

“I- I mean like on your days off, Nathan,” Reid said with furrowed brows.

“I take more cases. Or I draw. Or paint,” Webb said with a raised brow, “I don’t really have hobbies, Doc.”

Reid’s face contorted into a sort of sympathetic smile, “We’ll we’re going to have to find a way to spend the time.”

Webb rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Spencer, now’s not the time to put the moves on me. I can’t move very well, and in my personal opinion, I’d rather be able to be fun in bed our first time then have to avoid doing much of anything so my stitches don’t tear.”

Reid’s cheeks flushed red, and he immediately started to backpedal, “I wasn’t trying to-”

“It was a joke, Doc,” Webb said with a hearty laugh, kissing Reid’s cheek gently. “I know you weren’t trying to say anything like that. But if you’re wanting to find a way to spend the time, you could help me take a look at a few of these cases, see if I can clear this place out a bit.”

Reid’s brows furrowed a little bit before nodding. “We could also watch some movies, and I know that I’m going to be sleeping a lot, so you could read whatever books I have lying around. Or do whatever it is that you normally do. You write a lot of papers, right?” Webb asked.

“Not a lot- but I do write essays fairly often, especially if any of our cases break the mould of a type of unsub,” Reid murmured, “I think our most recent case might be good to write about, hm? I can’t say I’ve heard about a serial killer getting their start the way he did.”

Webb nodded in agreement and asked, “What else do you do, doc? I mean, besides all your studies and papers and teaching gigs.”

Reid’s brows furrowed, and he mumbled, “I guess… I guess I don’t do much either. I don’t watch much television, even.”

Webb chuckled softly, “We both should consider getting a hobby.”

Reid seemed to be in agreement and gently nuzzled against him. They sat in quiet, comfortable silence for a good while before Webb suggested, “Want to watch something? We’d have to move to my bed since that’s where the TV is, but I’ve got Netflix and Hulu.”

Reid smiled a bit at the suggestion and nodded, standing up and helping Webb to his feet, supporting him as much as the other would allow. Webb sat on his bed with a quiet groan, reaching over to his bedside table and finding a bottle of painkillers in the drawer. Once he found it, he started to fumble with the child-proof lock, “It’s been three hours, yeah?”

“Not quite-” Reid said and snatched the bottle from his hand. “I’ll give it back when it’s been three hours.”

Webb pouted and reached for it halfheartedly, “Spence-” he whined, “That’s not fair-”

“How is it not fair, Nathan?” He asked, raising his brow, “If you take them too often you’ll get liver damage. And that’s assuming you don’t already have _some_ liver damage from your drinking habits.”

“Mmph, if I already have liver damage, what’s the harm? It’s not like I have a long life expectancy as it is,” he whined, still reaching for it.

“Nathan,” Spencer said, his voice dropping lower with concern, “Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” He mumbled, “We’re FBI field agents. Not exactly the safest career choice.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Nathan,” Reid said earnestly, and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb. “I promise.”

Webb felt torn between brushing him off and accepting the kind gesture since he knew that Reid really did have the best of intentions. He settled on relaxing a bit in his arms and saying in a joking tone. “Whatever, Spence. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, either. Unless I’m currently incapacitated, like right now, in which case you’re going to have to call the team and hope for the best.”

Reid cracked a smile and kissed Webb’s forehead gently. “I appreciate it. I’ve got Hotch on speed dial for the next few days, though.”

The pair laughed and chatted for a few minutes before Reid suggested they changed his bandage, just in case Nathan fell asleep during the movie. They did just that, and Webb was very proud of himself for not instinctively punching Reid for touching his injury. Once he was done, Webb made Reid pick the movie, since he figured he’d fall asleep at some point anyway. Reid picked an older film called “Starship Troopers” (AN: This is a great nerdy space movie I highly recommend it), which Webb had never seen. The pair snuggled up as they watched, and Webb actually managed to stay awake for the entirety of the movie, thanks to the comedic moments that forced him to give a little laugh. Once it ended, though, Webb’s eyes started to droop, and he pressed his ear to Reid’s chest, feeling himself relax as he listened to his heartbeat. Reid gently ran his hand over his back and murmured, “Do you want those painkillers, sweetheart? I mean, it’s been well over three hours, now.”

Webb sat up a little bit and glared at him with a huff, “You should’ve told me when I could take the meds again,” he grumbled, “Give ‘em to me.”

Reid undid the cap of the painkillers and counted them out, which made Webb groan with annoyance. “Reid, it’s just Advil. Taking one extra isn’t going to kill me, now hurry up-“

Reid fixed him with a stern glare and said, “I’m aware that it’s not going to kill you. But you need to be careful that you only take the recommended amount so you don’t build up a tolerance and then have to take more.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Reid-“

“It can be. With how much you drink I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a genetic predisposition to addictive behaviours, and you have to be careful,” Reid said, his tone filled with concern.

Webb’s brows furrowed and he took the medicine from Reid’s hand and took it, not bothering to get any water to wash it down. He then rolled over into his other side, wincing a bit as it was the side his injury was on, facing away from him. He knew deep down that Reid had no way of knowing that it had touched a nerve, but there was no way that he was going to just accept that comment for being genuinely concerned. Webb could tell by the way that Reid was sitting still that the doctor was staring at him, and he forced himself to close his eyes. Webb made a mental promise to himself to not blow up at him if Reid tried to talk to him, and took a calming breath in an attempt to ground himself.

Reid was still for a few more moments before he felt the bed shift and heard him set the medication down, and then heard him leave the room for a few moments before returning. He felt Reid get back onto the bed before he felt a blanket cover him. He could feel that it was his throw blanket from his couch. Webb felt his body twinge with shame as he realised that Reid was stuck with him just as much as Webb was, considering that Hotch had practically assigned Reid to watch him. He wasn’t being fair to Reid. He knew that. Reid’s body shifted ever so slightly every once in a while, and Webb realised that Ried wasn’t sharing the blanket and that they were laying on top of the covers. _Stupid fucking- why’s he gotta be so goddamn selfless when I’m being an asshole. This isn’t fair to him at all._

Webb forced his pride down and rolled over, back onto Reid, and covered him with the blanket as best he could, and put his arm around Reid’s chest. The doctor was still stiff and awkward even after this gesture - _I can’t say I blame him_ \- so Webb mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an ass,” as he nuzzled into his chest.

Reid’s tension slipped from his body and he gently wrapped an arm around him, holding him close and kissing the top of his head. “It’s okay, Nathan. No worries.”

Thankfully for Webb, the awkward silence didn’t last long, as he was able to fall asleep fairly quickly. Reid had to endure for a little longer, but once he realised that Webb had fallen asleep, the awkwardness was replaced with worry and admiration- worry that he’d crossed a boundary, and admiration for how quickly he’d been able to bounce back and forgive. That, and he was able to admire Webb’s sleeping expression again. His usual half-scowl and furrowed brows were gone and instead replaced by a serene expression. Reid gently rubbed Webb’s back for a while before he too managed to fall asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory for my OC, nothing explicit but there is a wee bit of trauma mentioned.
> 
> Also, I've moved into my dorm for college and classes are starting soon so will likely not be posting as frequently!

When Webb woke up, he was alone in his bed, which wasn’t initially a surprise, but once his brain started to catch up, he jerked upright, which caused immense pain in his back. “Fuck-“ he winced and looked up, “Spence?” He called, not able to see if the doctor was in the apartment from where he was.

He didn’t get an immediate response, and Webb fumbled for his phone, about to call him when he heard his door open and shut. Webb knew that he had locked it last night, and he also knew that Spencer was too paranoid to have left it unlocked if he left. “Spence?” He called again, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

“Nathan?” Reid poked his head around the corner and raised his brows. “You’re awake early,” he commented.

“It’s eight, asshole, it’s not that early,” Webb muttered, “Where’d you run off to?” 

“I figured I’d pay you back for the room service. I went to that café that you like down the road. I hope waffles are okay?”

Webb rolled his eyes, “Are waffles okay? Reid, the day I turn down waffles is the day I want you to kill me, alright?”

Reid laughed a bit and nodded, “In bed? Or do you want to sit on the couch?”

Webb shifted a bit and muttered, “Get me my painkillers and we’ll see what I can do.”

Reid nodded and started the coffee before walking over and handing him the needed pills. “You alright, babe?”

“Mmmhm. Sat up too fast, is all. Kinda freaked me out that you weren’t here, not gonna lie,” Webb muttered, taking the medication and sitting against the pillows with a hum, “When did you get up, cher?”

_Cher?_ Spencer thought, feeling his heart flutter in his chest at the hint of an accent. _I knew he lived in Louisiana but I’ve never heard his accent really slip through like that._ “I-uh, at about six-thirty? We fell asleep pretty early.”

Webb didn’t miss the stutter at the beginning of his response and smiled a little bit. “We did. I am sorry about me being an ass last night, though.”

Reid shrugged and murmured, “It’s alright. I clearly pushed a boundary and was out of line.”

“Mmhh. Maybe so, but you weren’t wrong,” Webb said with a sigh, “You weren’t wrong about me having the addict gene and you weren’t wrong about me drinking too much. That’s probably why it touched so much of a nerve.”

Reid tilted his head and murmured, “I get it. It’s alright. No one likes being told they have a problem.”

Webb raised his brow and laughed, “Oh, believe me, I don’t have a problem. I’ve seen drinking become a problem. I drink a lot, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not quite there yet.”

Reid narrowed his eyes, “Are you saying you’re not dependent on alcohol? One of the first things you asked after you woke up was when you’d be able to drink again. That sounds like a dependency to me.”

“Spence, does it affect my work? Does it affect my relationships?”

“It might if you aren’t careful,” Reid pointed out, furrowing his brow, “And this isn’t me just lecturing you. I just- I had an issue a while back.”

Webb raised his brows and tilted his head, “You? Had an issue? No offence Reid, but you don’t seem like the addict type.”

“Well, something about working a case where you get kidnapped and are forced to shoot up Dilaudid makes you more susceptible to addiction.”

The pair stared at each other for a while, before Webb let out a sharp breath and said, “Holy shit, Reid, you don’t just drop that on a guy. You ok? I mean- now at least?”  
  


Reid nodded and went to pour them each a cup of coffee. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m two years sober.”

Webb nodded and reached for the coffee as he brought it over, “That’s impressive doc. I don’t think I need to tell you that, though. Dilaudid is… Hardcore, for lack of a better word. I’m glad you’re sober.”

Webb sipped his coffee and Reid sat down next to him. “It is definitely on the harder side of substances. And I apologise for being so careful with pain medications. I started to have to be careful with anything that eases pain, even if it isn’t an opiate, because it reminds my brain of what it felt like when I was high.”

Webb nodded and murmured, “I’m sorry doc. I didn’t know.”

Reid nodded and sipped his own coffee, and the pair sat in silence for a few minutes before he said, “I’m sorry I dropped that on you. That was sudden and honestly out-of-character for me.”

“Reid- It touched a nerve. And from what little I know about it, it seems like your addiction was a big deal, and the trauma that came along with it was as well,” Webb said, voice filled with concern, “It isn’t surprising that you’re a little paranoid about it. Especially with all those factoids and percentages telling you just how bad everything could be just floating around in your brain.”

“The curse of knowledge…” Reid mumbled with a sigh.

Webb gently nudged him, “If it makes you feel better, I could have turned out much worse than I did, and I think about that every day. It’s the worst thing in the world to know truly how bad things could be.”

“If you think it’s that bad, why’d you choose this job?” Reid asked, frowning a bit.

“Probably because I _do_ know how bad it could be. I’m far too aware of the evils that man to just go about my life and not do anything about it,” Webb replied, looking over at him with a sigh, “Now help me up. I’ve decided on sitting on the couch, at least, for now.”

Reid stood and started to help him up, murmuring, “I suppose so. Everyone responds to trauma differently.”

Webb chuckled as he made his way over to the couch and sat down. “You’re right about that. Look at me - a fairly respected artist and criminal psychologist. My brother? Family annihilator that is no longer eligible for parole thanks to a hefty drug habit he picked up in prison. Granted he had it worse than I did as a kid, but I can’t think of any way we could be more different.”

“Well… if one of you hadn’t gotten the addiction gene, that’d probably make a significant change,” Reid pointed out with a tilt of the head, grabbing the food off of the counter and bringing it over. “Sure you’re drinking and he’s doing drugs, but the addiction gene is still present in both of you.”

Webb let his head fall back a bit and sighed, “Reid I’m not an alcoholic. Believe me. I go to a lot of therapy. More than just the job-mandated amount.”

“Well, I would hope so.” Reid said with a slight laugh, “Most of us do end up going to additional therapy. We see a lot in the field.”

Reid set the food down on the coffee table and as Webb picked up his plate, he realised that all of the files and paperwork had been sorted through meticulously, presumably by Reid, “Thanks for getting food for me,” Webb murmured and started to eat.

Reid smiled a bit and shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was mostly getting food for myself.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, before Webb spoke up, “If you ever need to talk about anything or if you need someone to make sure you’re staying sober, I’m always here for you, you know?”

Reid looked over with a slight smile, “I know. I trust you.”

Webb felt his chest flutter at that and nodded a bit. It wasn’t like Reid had trust issues or anything, but Webb knew that he was generally very private with his issues. JJ was the only one he seemed to really talk with, and he occasionally reported his issues to Hotch, just so there were fewer issues within the team. It definitely made him feel special, as stupid as that sounded. “Good,” Webb said, fidgeting for a moment before returning to his meal.

“You can talk to me too, Nathan. About whatever,” Reid assures, putting a hand on his arm.

Webb glanced at his hand and mumbled, “I trust you too, Spence. Thank you.”

They settled into an awkward silence as they finished their meals before Webb eventually spoke up. “I-uh… I haven’t really talked about my life with anyone other than my therapist. Even when I had to talk to Hotch about it I was very vague. With Garcia, too, but I’m sure she’s read all of the files and news articles and shit like that.”

Reid looked over at him, his brows furrowing into a concerned expression, but he didn’t interrupt, just letting Webb talk. “My dad was uh, not the best guy. He was abusive and an alcoholic. And when I say alcoholic, I mean that he tore through at least a 12 pack of beer on his good days, and he was always physical when he drank. Ian, my brother, had it the worst. He was older, of course, so he was his first target.”

“Not your mother?” Reid asked, tilting his head. “Usually with an abusive parent, the other parent endures abuse as well.”

Webb scoffed, “That’s assuming they aren’t both abusive. She never hit us, but she would purposefully upset dad so that he would, and man that woman could find a way to tear into you and belittle you for just about anything.”

Reid winced a little bit, and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Webb shrugged, and continued, “When I was thirteen, Ian was about to move out to go to college. He didn’t want me to have to endure them both on my own, so he waited for me to be out of the house and killed them both. Shot them. I’m pretty sure I was working on a school project in the library.”

Reid’s face fell a little bit, and it was clear he was trying to find something to say that wouldn’t be hurtful, but Webb cut him off. “You don’t need to say anything, Spence. It happened a long time ago. I think the worst thing about it is that I still don’t understand why my brother is in jail. Yes, he killed them, but the prosecution team refused to back down from the voluntary manslaughter charge, even though the defence could have argued self-defence, and they even tried him as an adult, even though he was still seventeen. And I get that they technically have to add time for drugs and fighting while in prison... but it just doesn't seem fair.”

Reid reaches over to Webb and gently put a hand on his shoulder, testing to see if physical contact was okay, before pulling him into a hug and murmuring, “I’m sorry, Nathan… that’s awful.”

Webb shrugged a bit but leaned into Reid’s arms anyway, mumbling, “It’s fine.”

They sat like that for a few seconds before Webb shifted the way he was sitting and nuzzled into Reid’s chest, pressing his face into his shirt. “Thank you, Spence. I mean, you’re a great listener.”

“I try to be,” Reid said with a soft smile, petting his head gently. “I’m glad that you can trust me, sweetheart.”

Webb looked up at Reid with a little smile, “Of course I can. You’re a good man, Reid. A really good man.”

Webb leaned upward and gently pecked his lips, and Reid gently kissed him back, his hand finding his way to Webb’s neck, before tangling into his hair and pulling ever so slightly.

Webb went practically limp in his grasp and let out a soft whine at the firm hand on his neck. Reid’s lips twitched into an ever-so-slight smirk and chuckled, “Nathan, what was that?” He asked.

Webb glared at him a little bit before huffing and saying, “You’ll see.”

Webb sat a little more, shifting how he was sitting and moving their plates as quickly as he could to the coffee table, although he had to stop for a moment because of the way the movement made his stitches tighten, before straddling Reid’s waist. Once fully in his lap, Webb adjusted himself so that his hand found itself at the nape of Reid’s neck, just below his hairline and getting tangled in the doctor’s hair, before pulling him into a deeper kiss, his hand gently tightening in his hair, pulling at it a little bit. Within a few moments, Reid let out a whine similar to the one he had just teased Webb about. He pulled away with a little chuckle and mimicked Reid as he said, “Spencer, what was that?”

Reid’s cheeks flushed a light pink before he let out a laugh, clearly both embarrassed, amused, and a little bit impressed. Reid tilted his head upwards and leaned in for another kiss, and the pair stayed like that for several minutes, gently kissing and holding each other.


	18. Chapter 18

Just wanted to give a bit of an update! I’m back in college so I don’t have nearly as much time to write as I used to and am also a bit more interested in Sherlock at the moment so while I’m still working on this I’m usually doing like... 1-2 sentences a day, so it’ll be very slow on the updates. I have a full outline for the rest of the story tho so I am planning on finishing this!

Thanks for your understanding!


	19. Chapter 19

Over the course of the next three days, Reid and Webb became much closer to each other, as they had to spend every waking hour with each other. They even had a few little domestic spats, mostly revolving around Reid reorganizing Webb’s living space without his permission and Webb moving around too much and pulling at his stitches. Despite this, they hadn’t had any full-fledged arguments. They also both had developed several hickeys along their necks, thanks to their excessive downtime.

Of course, this couldn’t last forever, and as they were sitting at the couch eating lunch, Reid received a cellphone call. He picked up his phone and read the caller ID before looking at Webb, “It’s Hotch,” And answering the phone. “Hey Hotch, what’s up?... Mhm… I mean, I can come in, but Webb definitely isn’t well enough to do field work yet. He needs at least two more days.”

“Spencer- I’m fine!” Webb said, emphasising that he was fine loud enough so that Hotch could hear it over the phone.

“He’s not,” Reid said sternly, gently pushing Webb back a little bit as he listened to Hotch, who Webb could faintly hear speaking on the other end, “I don’t see why it would be an issue for him to go into the office, though.”

“Reid-”

The doctor shushed him and kept listening to Hotch. “Yeah, I think we can come up in an hour or so.”

“Thirty minutes, doc, it won’t take me that long to get ready-”

“Nathan says thirty minutes, Hotch.”

Webb glared at him and Reid rolled his eyes a bit. “Yeah we’ll be there. Thanks.”

Reid hung up, and Webb looked at him expectantly. “We have a case.” 

“Yeah I gathered as much. Now let’s go!”

“Are you sure you want to go? Hotch said it’d be okay if you stayed home.”

“I’d rather be in the bat cave with Garcia than be stuck at home, thanks,” Webb muttered, starting to stand up.

Reid rolled his eyes and stood up quickly before grabbing Webb and supporting his weight quickly. “Careful. You still have to be careful with your stitches.”

“Spencer-“

“And we’re both going to have to wear high-collared shirts or a scarf. These-“ he gently ran his fingertips along Webb’s throat, tapping at the points where there were hickies, “Will definitely get us into trouble.”

Webb blinked, caught a bit off guard by the statement, successfully distracting him from complaining about having to be careful. “I-uh, I have a turtleneck that I can wear.” 

Reid smiled a bit and chuckled, “Let me get it for you, then.”

Reid stepped into Webb’s room and grabbed their clothes. He helped Webb into his clothes before getting himself dressed. While Reid was getting dressed, Webb started gathering Reid’s clothes into a go-bag so that they could leave faster. “You’re pretty excited to be going back to work,” Reid murmured with a little bit of a laugh as he finished pulling on his sweater vest.

“Mmhm,” Webb replied, smiling a bit, “I know it’s fairly morbid to be excited for a case but as much as I love you, I’m ready to get out of the house and be useful.”

“You’ve been plenty useful working on these cold cases here at home, sweetheart,” Reid reminded, picking up his go-bag.

“Yeah but it’s nothing like working on a current case, actually saving lives. Not working on cases where the victims are already dead and the unsub usually is as well,” Webb pointed out, raising his brows at him.

Reid sighed and nodded in agreement, and the pair then started out of the building. Reid led the way for the most part, although he did stop to help Webb get in the car. They made small talk for the entirety of the drive back to Quantico about the case. From what Hotch had told Reid on the phone, it was a child abduction case, and the offender was likely the father, who the police needed help finding. By the time they arrived at Quantico, Webb had been caught up to speed on the case. They arrived at the same time as Morgan, who looked pleased to see them both. “Hey you two! How’s it been? You healing up okay, Nathan?”

“Yeah I’m doing alright,” Webb said with a grin, waving at him with a chuckle, “I’m ready to get back to work.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m sure you’re tired of spending so much time with Reid.”

“Eh, it’s not Reid. It's that neither of us really have any hobbies or interests that aren’t directly related to work work, and the few hobbies I have, I can’t do with this injury,” Webb said with a raised eyebrow.

He knew that Morgan’s teasing was just that, teasing, but he still got defensive of Reid. He hated that Reid was constantly the butt of everyone’s jokes, especially because Reid was such a sweetheart and wouldn’t stick up for himself. The doctor put a hand on his shoulder and said with a little laugh, “I’m glad I wasn’t an annoyance.”

The trio made their way inside, and up the elevator, before finally making it inside the office. Upon entering the bullpen area, Webb could see Hotch and Rossi in their offices, JJ talking to someone on the phone and Prentiss gathering papers from her desk. “Heya, Em. How’s the case looking?” Webb asked, walking over to his desk.

“Child abductions are never fun. But it’s looking more and more like the father doesn’t want to harm the boy if he is the unsub, so we have more time if that’s the case,” she said, looking up, “How’s your injury?”

“Ah I’m fine. Reid’s saying I need a few more days before I’m good to come back to the field, though,” Webb chuckled, “How’ve you been the past few days?”

“Good, good. Mostly paperwork on our end. I’m assuming you still had to do a lot of paperwork even though you were technically ‘off’.”

“Mhm that’s for sure,” he chuckled, before they all heard Hotch calling.

“Everyone to the round-table. It’s time to go over the case,” He looked down at everyone in the bullpen area, and nodded at Webb and Reid, essentially giving them a ‘welcome back’ look.

Everyone gradually made their way up to the round-table and sat around it. Once everyone had settled in, Garcia came in and set a file down in front of Reid before saying, “Alright everyone, if you’ll look to your tablets, or file, in the case of our own Doctor Reid - welcome back, by the way - you’ll see photos and all the information we currently have about Christian Peterson, who is our victim. It also includes a lot of information about Adrian Potts, who is his biological father and our main suspect, according to the Henderson police department.”

Webb looked over the information they had, and saw that they were headed to Henderson Nevada, and he made a note in the back of his mind that they were working very close to Las Vegas, and that they may have to start looking in California as well. “They’ve closed off the main roads in and out of town, but we may have to look outside of the town because of the topography of the town and number of roads that lead in and out. But we have frozen the father’s cards and have an APB out for his vehicle, and the child and his photo are both being circulated in the local media and in Las Vegas.”

The team looked over everything briefly before Hotch said, “Because our main suspect is likely the father, we have a bit more time, but we should still hurry. Everyone’s got their go-bags right? Wheels up in five.”

The team started to pack up their things, and Webb watched Reid go with a little bit of a frown. He knew they couldn’t say anything out of the norm, but he had gotten rather used to a small hug or kiss from the other whenever he left. Reid met his eyes for a moment, giving him an understanding look. The doctor gestured to the phone in his hand discreetly before giving a bit of a smile. Webb nodded in understanding before giving a bit of a chuckle. He didn’t have any doubts about the young doctor being serious about… whatever their relationship was, if he was willing to call or text.

Webb gave him a moment to walk away before texting him, ‘Stay safe and have fun, babe,’ and putting his phone back into his pocket. He stood from the table and grabbed his tablet before following Garcia, “Wait up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised I'd finish this but I fully lost motivation for this. I will maybe(?) return to this if I get back into criminal minds, but here's all of what I've written since I started my break. Ty for the continued support!


	20. Small Update

I've recently been rewatching CM/rereading what I've written so far. I'm probably going to adjust some wording/fix typos as I reread before starting up writing anything new, as well as work on actual schoolwork, but do know that I will be trying to write more! I that hope my writing stays up to par/my style hasn't changed too much.

Edit: I've gone through and edited some small things and fixed any typos I noticed. I promise I have not forgotten to work on this, school has just picked up again with midterms. I'll get to writing for this asap.


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